It's only in mediocre books that people are divided into two camps and have nothing to do with each other. In real life everything gets mixed up! Don't you think you'd have to be a hopeless nonentity to play only one role all your life, to have only one place in society, always to stand for the same thing?

A sad, plangent music. In the British camp, Sharpe thought, they would be singing, but no one was singing here.

The bark on the tree was just a little softer.

Percy: I'll walk down to the cabins and Connor and Travis are stealing stuff from the camp store, and Silena is arguing with Annabeth trying to give her a new makeover, and Clarisse is still sticking the new kids' head into the toilets. It's nice that some things never change.

What on earth would I do if four bears came into my camp? Why, I would die of course. Literally shit myself lifeless.