“Can you use this for soup?”

“Today I ate my manuscript with the very spoon I used to write it with. My book was called “Chicken Noodle Soup for the Stomach.”
I wrote it with alphabet soup, and then edited it with a can of chicken noodle soup.”

“A brick could be used like a Viking skull holds soup. If you bring a spoon, I can quench your thirst—and your hunger. 
”

“There is nothing like soup. It is by nature eccentric: no two are ever alike, unless of course you get your soup in a can.”

“I am a gluttonous, gorging failure. A waste. My body isn’t used to high-sugar carbs laced with witchcraft. It can barely cope with soup and crackers.”

“You humans, always eating. I'll make you soup. You can eat it while you keep working." Myrnin set aside his book and walked into the back of the lab."Don't use the same beaker you used for poisons!" Claire yelled after him. He waved a pale hand. "I mean it!”