“I hate that stuff. It tastes like feet."At that he smiled. "How would you know what feet taste like?""I just know.”

“I brought you some coffee.” he held out the cup but she waved it away.“I hate that stuff. It tastes like feet.”At that he smiled. “How would you know what feet taste like?”“I just know.”-Luke and Clary, pg.209-”

“I drink coffee sometimes, but Starbucks’ coffee tastes like burnt ass,” I say.“Actually, it tastes nothing like burnt ass, Anna.”“And how would you know what burnt ass tastes like?”He laughs. “That’s for me to know…and you to find out.”I’m not sure I want to find out, but whatever.”

“Blah! This coconut cream pie tastes like ass and feet! I hate it when things are deceptively delicious-looking.”

“Tastes like a drunken diabetic's piss,' agreed Wednesday. 'I hate the stuff.”

“This cigarette tastes like ass," she said. I wasn't sure what ass tasted like, but she looked like she would know, so I was willing to take her word for it.”