“Is that your face or did your neck just throw up?”

“Were you dropped on your head as a baby or did your mother just throw you against a wall ?”

“There was [really] little difference between someone acting throwing french fries in your face and someone throwing french fries in your face.”

“And you," Jude said, stepping forward and putting his finger in Tony's face. "Don't you ever try to give something of yours to put on her body." The muscles just below Jude's neck were sticking out like shark fins he was so tense. "Or I'm never throwing another ball your way. Got that?”

“Right. I can see it now. Merry Christmas, everybody! And by the way, did I tell you I'm a vampire? No need to pass the gravy, just bare your neck-”

“How like a mirror, her face. Impossible; for how many people did you know who refracted your own light to you? People were more often - he searched for a simile, found one in his work - torches, blazing away until they whiffed out. How rarely did other people's faces take of you and throw back to you your own expression, your own innermost trembling thought?”