“You ever see Willy Wonka? You know that part where the girl eats an everlasting gobstopper sweet and it tastes of everything? Like chicken soup and roast beef and blueberry pie all rolled into one? Well, that's exactly what Shapeshifter blood tastes like...”

“Though my skull is the size of a soup bowl, everything in the universe—and more—can fit inside my imagination. And guess what? My imagination tastes like chicken noodle soup.”

“Clary wondered what exactly peanut-fish-olive-tomato soup tasted like.”

“So--what's it like, being a vampire?""Aline!" Isabelle looked appalled. "You can't just go around asking people what's it like to be a vampire!""I don't see why," Aline said. "He hasn't been a vampire that long, has he? So he must still remember what it was like being a person." She turned back to Simon. "Does blood taste like blood to you? Or does it taste like something else now, like orange juice or something? Because I would think the taste of blood would-""It tastes like chicken," Simon said, just to shut her up."Really?" Aline looked astonished."He's making fun of you, Aline," said Sebastain”

“You tasted it. Isn't that enough? Of what do you ever get more than a taste? That's all we're given in life, that's all we're given of life. A taste. There is no more.”

“This soup tastes like windows”