1 A grin was on the face of the monster; he seemed to jeer, as with his fiendish finger he pointed towards the corpse of my wife.
2 But it was not merely a falsehood, it was the cruel jeer of some wicked power, some evil, hateful power, to whom one could not submit.
3 She looked up quickly to see if there was a jeer behind those words but there was none.
4 They would jeer him, and, if practicable, pelt him with missiles.
5 There was no lack of material; boys happened along every little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash.
6 Then, when I had got as far out as my voice would reach, I began to jeer at the Cyclops.
7 'I don't jeer at you,' he said.
8 They mock and jeer at the lost souls whom they dragged down to ruin.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContext Highlight In Chapter 3 9 The laborers began to jeer the travelers and by their insolence disturbed the equanimity even of the cool Athos, who urged on his horse against one of them.
10 The red glow in the sky was fading now and the road became so dark, so frightening, Scarlett would have welcomed words, any words from him, even jeering, insulting words, words that cut.
11 He was jeering at her and, somehow, she knew he was jeering at himself too.
12 His voice was soft but there was a vibrant note in it, and looking up into his dark face she saw in it none of the skepticism, the jeering humor she knew so well.
13 His jeering words passed over her head and she did not even hear them.
14 "Brace up," said Rhett, and there was a hard, faintly jeering note in his voice.
15 But she did not possess his sense of humor which tempered his malice, nor his smile that jeered at himself even while he was jeering others.