“The boxers were banging away at each other. Go on, go on, go on, keep punching, Antonio, keep punching. I'm blasting away at the Cuban guy. He can't hurt me. I'm made of iron. His fists feel like friendly pats when he manages to land a punch, which he doesn't do too often, 'cause I'm fast on my feet, and I duck and weave. Jack be nimble, Jack be quick. But I'm punching the hell out of him. I'm creaming the bastard, creaming the Cuban, creaming my old man... What?!... Creaming my boss,I mean. That son-of-a-bitch Mr. Hanson. For an instant he saw Janey at the receiving end of his fists. Again. He pushed the image from his mind. It was Mr. Hanson. It was the Cuban champion. And the crowd was cheering. They were on their feet and screaming. They love me. Yes, they love me. Yes they do. They really do.”
“I'm on my feet, pacing around the room, punching a fist into my palm, which I stop doing when I realise how drama queen it feels.”
“And about Shane, I swear, if he doesn't snap out of it, I'm going to punch him in the face. Well, punch him in the face and then run like hell." - Eve Rosser”
“We're guys. I punched him, he hit me back, and then everything was fine. We went out for ice cream after.”
“Punch me.""Don't be absurd.""Come on, punch me, Barrons.""I'm not punching you.""I said, punch--OW!" He decked me.”
“He's so unlucky it's almost lucky," Gren said. "It's like he has reverse luck.""He's reverse good-looking, too" said Hyde."I'm going to reverse punch you," Strag said to his brother."That was reverse smart, man. It means you're going to punch yourself.”