When I entered high school I was an A-student, but not for long. I wanted the fancy clothes. I wanted to hang out with the guys. I went from being an A-student to a B-student to a C-student, but I didn't care. I was getting the high fives and the low fives and the pats on the back. I was cool.
David Price gives the best high-fives in all of baseball. They sting the hands and deliver noteworthy affirmative vibes.
You might be a redneck if your mother has been involved in a fist fight at a high school sports event.
I did my fist show, 'Godspell', in my freshman year of high school.
In an effort to civilize combat sports, authorities mandated padded gloves and instantly made the sports far more savage. Granted, putting gloves on the hands seems like a nice thing to do. If you were being punched in the brain by a powerful man, wouldn't you rather he strap a pillow around his fist? But the glove doesn't do anything to diminish your brain damage.
Maggie squeezes my hand. It’s a silent message that everything will be okay. Somehow I believe her. In the end everything will be okay. But hurdles have to be jumped through first.
Entropy shakes its angry fist at you for being clever enough to organize the world. (p 2)
The overall experience was pretty cool just because if there was a street, it was lined with people. And for something as brutal as a marathon, you're running for three hours, it's just nice to have all those people cheering you on, putting their hands out for high fives - you never feel alone.
Everything will be okay in the end. If it`s not okay, than there is always beer
One of the hardest things I've had to learn is to let it go. At the end of the show or the end of the rehearsal day to just take a deep breath and say, "Alright, that was it. That was the day."
Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.
I know I belong in Dauntless because everything I did in that aptitude test told me so. I'm loyal to my faction for that reason -- because there's nowhere else I could possibly be. But her? And you?" She shakes her head. "I have no idea who you're loyal to. And I'm not going to pretend like everything's okay.
Being on a grand jury felt like attending a series of hangings in a legal Wild West. Hands up for a true bill. Hands up for a dismissal. A show of hands to save a life, or to end it.
Just show him that I didn't need his apology, I guess. Show him that I was okay. Better than okay. I was happy, in spite of everything he'd done to me, and no, I didn't forgive him. God help me, I would not forgive him.
When I was young, I had a big problem with warts. It started with one on the side of my little finger. A year later, I had it on all my fingers. My hands looked like the hands of an alligator. So I fist bumped people instead of shaking hands for a few years.
The Bill of Rights is a born rebel. It reeks with sedition. In every clause it shakes its fist in the face of constituted authority. It is the one guaranty of human freedom to the American people.