Rick Riordan Quotes

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and wonder how I do these things. I can embarrass myself so badly that I literally get a hot prickle down the back of my neck.

It’s funny—when people call you “shy,” they usually smile. Like it’s cute, some funny little habit you’ll grow out of when you’re older, like the gaps in your grin when your baby teeth fall out. If they knew how it felt—really being shy, not just unsure at first—they wouldn’t smile. Not if they knew how the feeling knots up your stomach or makes your palms sweat or robs you of the ability to say anything that makes sense. It’s not cute at all.

It was terrible on dates, because I could never eat when I was on a date.

I spent every day just praying that I didn't look like a big dork on camera.

I can't watch myself in interviews. I feel like I look like a wreck. My mom is always calling me and going, 'Stop fidgeting,' and it's like, 'You have no idea what it's like, Mom.'

But inside, I'm going, 'Oh my God, is my zipper up? Do I have a booger in my nose?' That's my inner monologue.

I've always been a slow starter. My first date was with a girl called Cessi. We had a beautiful relationship over the phone all summer, and then when we met, I couldn't look her in the eye.

I hate Q&As. They make me feel awkward.

I actually feel awkward being at the center of attention.

Truthfully, I'm incredibly shy, and I'm very awkward around boys.

My worst habit is probably awkward laughing. I always awkward laugh, like when you're talking to someone and no one is saying anything, so I'll do an awkward laugh. I wish I didn't do that.

I'm awkward under the limelight.

I'm a bit awkward.

Sometimes I have a little social anxiety, and meeting people can be a challenge for me.

I can't make eye contact when people sing 'Happy Birthday' to me.

We all know what it's like to go through growing pains and have awkward moments talking to someone you have a crush on.

I don't really enjoy being the center of attention; I find it hard.

I know I was known as a ladies man and all that, but even the thought of holding my heroine's hand made me break into a sweat.

I don't know if I want to walk down the street and have everyone staring. I think that would be awful. I'm a pretty shy person, really.

I have mild social anxiety to an extent where, when I'm talking to a new person, literally the only thing I can think in the back of my head is: 'What do I say when they're done talking?'

My first interviews, I didn't know what to say. I was really, really shy. It's overwhelming sometimes.

It truly is a little intimidating to go speak at a middle school. Sure, on one hand the kids are only around 13 years old, but on the other hand, merely going back there reactivates the dorky, miserable feeling of being that age again. It isn't easy. As soon as I arrived I could almost feel the braces on my teeth, the don't-look-at-me slouch of my shoulders, the feathered wings of my bangs.

I called Vee. "How are you doing?" I asked. "Good. How are you?" "Good." Silence. "Okay," Vee said in a rush, "I am still totally freaked out. You?" "Totally.

My run is so weird. That's what I'm most nervous about in this whole ordeal. I'm most nervous about everybody making fun of the way I run. I do, like, karate hands. Instead of running with my hands closed together like a normal person. It's like I'm trying to be aerodynamic or something, so my hands are straight like razors. Karate hands.

I don't know what to do with my arms. It just makes me feel weird and I feel like people are looking at me and that makes me nervous.