“He stared at Avery's socks and felt an odd sense of wonder. Socks were so normal. So mundane. How could someone who pulled on socks in the morning be a serial killer? Socks were not hard or dangerous. Socks were funny; foot mittens, that's what socks were. They made a knobbly hinge of your toes and became comical sock-puppets. Surely anyone who wore socks could not truly be a threat to him or anyone else?”
“[If] you are ready enough to pull my knitting to pieces, but provide none of your own, the only sock is a sock in the jaw!”
“Got sock? Foot cold.”
“I sure hope Wrigley doesn't start making socks, because then I wouldn't be able to refuse if someone offered me some socks. I sure do love chewing on socks. They add lots of flavor while I'm biting my toenails.”
“Tad socked him. Hard. Twice. Someday the bad guys would realize monologues were a bad thing.”
“It's hard enough for a person to keep their own socks pulled up, let alone someone else's.”