High Five In The Face Quotes & Sayings

I can tell you now that if you break things off with Alana, I'm gonna want to high five you in the face with a hammer before we reach New York. — Eden Summers

Some people need a high five.
In the face.
With a chair. — Anonymous

That bitch needs a good old fashioned high five to the face with a metal chair if you ask me, — Amy Davies

Speaking of libraries: A big open-stack academic or public library is no small pleasure to work in. You're, say, trying to do a piece on something in Nevada, and you go down to C Floor, deep in the earth, and out to what a miner would call a remote working face. You find 10995.497S just where the card catalog and the online computer thought it would be, but that is only the initial nick. The book you knew about has led you to others you did not know about. To the ceiling the shelves are loaded with books about Nevada. You pull them down, one at a time, and sit on the floor and look them over until you are sitting on a pile five feet high, at which point you are late home for dinner and you get up and walk away. It's an incomparable boon to research, all that; but it is also a reason why there are almost no large open-stack libraries left in the world. — John McPhee

Then eventually Westwood arrived. He looked nothing like Reacher expected, but the reality fit the bill just as well as the preconceptions had. He was an outdoors type, not a lab rat, and sturdy rather than pencil-necked. He looked like a naturalist or an explorer. He had short but unruly hair, fair going gray, and a beard of the same length and color. He was red in the face from sunburn and had squint lines around his eyes. He was forty-five, maybe. He was wearing clothing put together from high-tech fabrics and many zippers, but it was all old and creased. He had hiking boots on his feet, with speckled laces like miniature mountain-climbing ropes. He was toting a canvas bag about as big as a mail carrier's. — Lee Child

Grandfather kicked the stop pedal, and my face gave a high-five to the front window. — Jonathan Safran Foer

Sometimes people deserve a high five, in the face, with a chair. — Will Rogers

As it happens, the first souvenir I bought was a dried llama fetus. Revolting as it may sound, my poor stillborn llama is actually rather cute. Frozen in the fetal position and dried stiff like beef jerky, it has the gentle, smiling face of a camel and plenty of soft, if slightly formaldehyde-scented, fur. I bought the llama fetus partly because it horrified me, but also for educational purposes, so that my eight-year-old daughter Sophia could show it to her class. (She refused.)
Bolivians buy llama fetuses to ward off evil in its many guises. Bolivian miners - who, with a life expectancy of forty-five years, basically live their entire adult lives dying - look to llama fetuses for protection against dynamite explosions and the lung-destroying silicon particulates they inhale all day. Downing high-proof alcohol also helps. "The purer the alcohol, the purer the minerals I find," one miner told me wryly. — Amy Chua

A twitchy nose popped up underneath her hand, near the rim of the portal. "They're like this all the time. I can't bear it any longer. I can't and I shan't!"
"Edgar!" Lex's face melted into a grin as she lowered her hand. "Oh, man. I've missed you."
Edgar Allan Poe smoothed out his frock coat. "Yes. Well. Your absence has been noted as well. I'm left to fend for myself with these simpering nincompoops."
"Hey, Poe," said Tut. "Your mustache is showing!" He smiled a jockish grin and gave Cordy a high-five.
"I know my mustache is - that's not even a joke - " Edgar's lip quivered. "You see what I mean? It seems the presidents have taught him the ever-popular sport of Torture the Poet. Oh, yes. Taught. Him. Well. — Gina Damico

Some people just need a high-five. In the face. With my knives. — Sarah J. Maas