I'm the son of Jupiter, I'm a child of Rome, consul to demigods, praetor of the First Legion. I slew the Trojan sea monster, I toppled the black throne of Kronos, and destroyed Titan Krios with my own hand. And now I'm going to destroy you Porphyrion, and feed you to your own wolves." "Wow, dude," Leo muttered, "You been eating red meat?
Percy looked at Coach Hedge and Frank. “A trap?” “Probably,” Frank said. “She’s not mortal,” Hedge said, sniffing the air. “Probably some kind of goat-eating, demigod-destroying fiend from Tartarus.” “No doubt,” Percy agreed. “Awesome.” Hedge grinned. “Let’s go.
You think it's okay that we're eating Rudolph?" "Dude," Percy said, "I could eat Prancer and Blitzen, too. I'm HUNGRY.
Oh, lord. I was beginning to think like Neith. Soon I'd be huddled in an underground bunker eating army rations and cackling as I sewed together the pockets of all the boys who'd jilted me.
Eating next to a twenty-foot-long crocodile took some getting used to, but Philip was well trained. He only ate bacon, stray waterfowl, and the occasional invading monster.
Freak is easily spooked. Flesh-eating monsters tend to scare him away. So do fireworks, clowns, and the smell of Sadie's weird British Ribena drink. (Can't blame him on that last one. Sadie grew up in London and developed some pretty strange tastes.
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