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“You saved the world," annabeth said. "We saved the world." "And Rachel is the new Oracle, which means she won't be dating anybody." "You don't sound disappointed," I noticed. Annabeth shrugged. "Oh, I don't care." "Uh-huh." She raised an eyebrow. "You got something to say to me, Seaweed Brain?" "You'd probably kick my butt." "You know I'd kick your butt." I brushed the cake off my hands. "When I was at the River Styx, turning invulnerable . . . Nico said I had to concentrate on one thing that kept me anchored to the world, that made me want to stay mortal." Annabeth kept her eyes on the horizon. "Yeah?" "Then up on Olympus," I said, "when they wanted to make me a god and stuff, I kept thinking—" "Oh, you so wanted to." "Well, maybe a little. But I didn't, because I thought—I didn't want things to stay the same for eternity, because things could always get better. And I was thinking . . ." My throat felt really dry. "Anyone in particular?" Annabeth asked, her voice soft. I looked over and saw that she was trying not to smile. "You're laughing at me," I complained. "I am not!" "You are so not making this easy." Then she laughed for real, and she put her hands around my neck. "I am never, ever going to make things easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it." When she kissed me, I had the feeling my brain was melting right through my body. I could've stayed that way forever, except a voice behind us growled, "Well, it's about time!" Suddenly the pavilion was filled with torchlight and campers. Clarisse led the way as the eavesdroppers charged and hoisted us both onto their shoulders. "Oh, come on!" I complained. "Is there no privacy?" "The lovebirds need to cool off!" Clarisse said with glee. "The canoe lake!" Connor Stoll shouted. and they dumped us in the water.”

“You saw him as disapproving of you. I thought him disapproving of me. Funny, isn't it?" Not only funny, but a strange relief. Why hadn't she seen it? Rhys felt like an impostor here, too. [...] Tilting her head to the twilight sky, she mused, "Do you know what I think? I have a feeling that dour look on Lord Corning's face had nothing to do with either of us. Perhaps he'd just tasted something unpleasant.”

“You saw in your interview with Speaker [Paul] Ryan, though, an echo of what the White House and the president [Donald Trump] have started to say, which is, well, we`re not going to get a check from Mexico to pay for the wall on the front end. We`re going to find some way to get the money back, but initially will be paid for by the U.S.”

“You saw me before I saw you. In the airport, that day in August, you had that look in your eyes, as though you wanted something from me, as though you’d wanted it for a long time. No one had ever looked at me like that before, with that kind of intensity. It unsettled me, surprised me, I guess. Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.”

“You saw me but didn't say hello? I'm wounded, Miss Antonius.' Synton's voice was like a deep rumble of thunder in her ear as he finally dropped his hands but didn't step back. 'Perhaps I was getting the lay of the land. A lady must know where it's safe to step,' she quipped. 'Yet you're stepping all over my ego.' 'Forgive me, my lord. I had no idea you'd be so easily damaged.”

“You saw what I’ve done, Mom!!” bragged the child. “What was that creature anyway?!” “It was a snake, a venomous one, the Arabian-horned viper,” replied the mother, shaking in fear from what just happened. “You were lucky it was a young one,” “A snake, huh?!! Well, he got what he deserved,” said the fawn. “You called me brave and hero, so will you name me Shuja’ or Batal ?” “Neither,” said the mother, pulling her son into a hug, “I’ll call you Nader,” Nader means rare, one of a kind.”

“You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink.”

“You say I have the most wicked face of any woman. You say my hair is like the serpent locks of Medusa, that my eyes have the cruel cunning of Borgia, that my mouth is the mouth of the sinister scheming Delilah, that my hands are like the talons of a Circe or the blood-bathing Elizabeth Bathory. And then you ask me of my soul—you wish to know if it is reflected in my face.”