Head Slap Emoji Quotes

A few minutes later, a tall, bronze-skinned woman with masses of dark hair, eyes like pale emeralds, and more curves than the Nürburgring racetrack appeared next to my table. My SEAL stood and started to intervene, but I held up a lazy hand, gave a droopy-eyed smile, slurred my words, and waved him off. The stripper sat on my lap with nothing between her and the Lord but a smile and three pieces of strategically placed duct tape. She slipped a glittering arm around my shoulders - she apparently was wearing lotion with metal flakes in it and it felt rough. Then she leaned her décolletage my way, placing her head next to my ear. "You know what you're supposed to do, right?" she whispered, smiling and acting like she had just said something terribly wrong. She was a good actress for Elizabeth City.
Laughing, smiling, and acting wasted, I slurred as loudly and obnoxiously as I could, "Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing, woman!" With that, I reached up and placed my hand on her massive breast, just as I'd been instructed to do - all for the good of my country.
The slap that followed could[…]"

Excerpt From: Jamie Smith. "Gray Work ~ Jamie Smith

Do you think it's weird to kiss someone you barely know?"
No, it's perfectly normal and gives us a fantastic excuse to make out. Kiss me!
"Totally weird," she said, immediately wanting to slap herself.
He nodded slowly. "Me too." Scarlet's heart sank a little. Gabriel flashed his dimples. "I guess now I've got a good reason to get to know you, don't I?"
Scarlet narrowed her eyes. "Who said I'd let you kiss me even if you got to know me?"
He nodded his head with a smile. "Challenge accepted. ~ Chelsea Fine

Aunt Lotty had gone, and Laura and Mary were tired and cross. They were at the woodpile, gathering a pan of chips to kindle the fire in the morning. They always hated to pick up chips, but every day they had to do it. Tonight they hated it more than ever.
Laura grabbed the biggest chip, and Mary said:
"I don't care. Aunt Lotty likes my hair best, anyway. Golden hair is lots prettier than brown."
Laura's throat swelled tight, and she could not speak. She knew golden hair was prettier than brown. She couldn't speak, so she reached out quickly and slapped Mary's face.
Then she heard Pa say, "Come here, Laura."
She went slowly, dragging her feet. Pa was sitting just inside the door. He had seen her slap Mary.
"You remember," Pa said, "I told you girls you must never strike each other."
Laura began, "But Mary said--"
"That makes no difference," said Pa. "It is what I say that you must mind."
Then he took down a strap from the wall, and he whipped Laura with the strap.
Laura sat on a chair in the corner and sobbed. When she stopped sobbing, she sulked. The only thing in the whole world to be glad about was that Mary had to fill the chip pan all by herself.
At last, when it was getting dark, Pa said again, "Come here, Laura." His voice was kind, and when Laura came he took her on his knee and hugged her close. She sat in the crook of his arm, her head against his shoulder and his long brown whiskers partly covering her eyes, and ~ Laura Ingalls Wilder

You want to see compassion? Fine." I take the hand pressed against my shoulders and kiss his knuckles. "I've now kissed the hand of my mother's killer."
Before he has time to react to my chaste kiss, I bring my other hand up and slap him. His head whips to the side.
"I'm also a vindictive bitch," I say. ~ Laura Thalassa

Now put your hands on the countertop, and bend over. I'm going to shove you so full of cock you won't even remember how to spell your name for a week," he said in his deep voice.

"Oh my. Ok," I said as I did what he asked. As I grabbed the edges of the countertop, I felt his foot kicking the insides of my shoes, spreading my legs farther apart.

"You long legged, sexy little bitch. I have to get your pussy down here where I can get to it," he said, as he slapped the right side of my butt, hard. The slap startled me, and the sting felt like fire.

As soon as he stopped kicking my shoes and spreading my legs apart, I felt the head of his cock slide past my lips. His hands grabbed my waist, and he slid all the way inside of me. As soon as I felt his balls against my clit, I began to contract and felt as if I was going to cum. His cock slid out, and then back in again. He found a rhythm and began to fuck me slowly, his hips slapping lightly against my butt as he slid all the way into my wet pussy. As his hips slapped my ass, I could feel his balls against my clit. I couldn't take it anymore. If he kept up this pace, I would explode.

"Fuck me Erik, fuck me. Fuck me harder. Fuck me," I said loudly.

"Fuck me, Erik. Oh God. Fuck me."

"Fuck me."

"Harder." I begged.

"Who owns you, baby girl? Who fucking owns you?" he almost screamed.

"Oh God, you do. You own me. You."

"Don't forg ~ Scott Hildreth

As we drew near to the gates of Dother Hall the old bell in the belfry rang out. I said, 'I must go in, it's nigh on ten of the clock.' He half-turned away from me, his jacket collar hiding his expression. Was he angry? Disappointed?"
Jo looked intently and I said, "Hungry?"
Jo ignored me, but as she passed by acting out walking away from Phil, she allowed her hand to slap against my head. ~ Louise Rennison

Sarah. Oh, Sarah." He closed his eyes and slapped his hand over his face. "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. You don't try to use reason with a man when you want to play slap and tickle with him."
"You don't?" When he grinned and shook his head, I scowled. "Why not?"
Colton sighed. "Because dicks don't respond to reason; they respond to stimulation."
"So ... ?" What the heck was he saying?
"Seduce that motherfucker, and he'll fold like a house of cards. ~ Linda Kage

She'd probably slap me upside the head and say some variation of 'Hey, Future Clare, wtf? ~ Kim Harrington

My cell phone rang on the table. I never went far without it, even in the house. I picked it up. An unlisted number. Oh goodie.
"Nevada Baylor."
"I need to talk to you," Mad Rogan said into the phone. "Meet me for lunch."
My pulse jumped, my body snapped to attention, and my brain shut down for a second to come to terms with the impact of his voice. I'd slap myself except my mother and grandmother already thought I was nuts, and hurting myself would get me committed for sure.
"Sure, let me get right on that." Hey, my voice still worked. "Should I bring my own chains this time? Or do you have bigger plans, and this is some freaky murder foreplay" - why did the word foreplay just come out of my mouth? - "and I'll end up cut up into small pieces inside some freezer at the end? I can just spray myself with mace and shoot myself in the head now and save you some trouble?"
"Are you done?" he asked.
"Just getting started." I was so brave over the phone.
"Lunch, Ms. Baylor. Concentrate. Pick a place."
"You seem to be under the impression that I work for you and you can give me orders. Let me fix that." I hung up.
Grandma looked at my mom. "Did she just hang up on Mad Rogan?"
"Yes, she did. ~ Ilona Andrews

Running is like music. It requires rhythm and focus. It requires dedication. It requires a dogged ability to shut out everything else. The herd is strung out below me, keeping time with the thump and slap of their cross-trainers. I hold the sound in my head and subtract cars, trucks, motorcycles, voices until it's nothing but a song. ~ Brenna Yovanoff

Max flashed me a flirtatious smile. "Why don't you come and join us, me and you could -"
"Don't even finish that sentence, Slap-head."
"Hey, I told you, call me Max."
"While you're being a wanker, you're Slap-head. ~ Suzanne Wrightt

I'm always have been in my life a big protector of women. If I see a guy slap a girl I would rip their head off; I'm very like that. ~ Vinnie Jones

I want to stay," and then, more weakly, "Need some more sun."
A fly from a batch of seaweed lands on a white, bony thigh. She doesn't slap at it. It doesn't go away.
"But there's no sun, dude." I tell her.
I start to walk away. So what, I mutter under my breath. When she wants to come in, she will. Imagine a blind person dreaming. I head back up toward the house. Wonder if Griffin will stick around, if Mona made reservations for dinner, if Spin will call back. "I know what the word dead means," I whisper to myself as softly as I can because it sounds like an omen. ~ Bret Easton Ellis

Nick," I murmured, "should I ever head into the cellar armed only with a ladle after the police have just warned me that a psychotic killer is on the loose, please slap me. ~ Kristan Higgins

Why slap them on the wrist with feather when you can belt them over the head with a sledgehammer. ~ Katharine Hepburn

My daughter wants to throw a stone at a bad man. I stop her from throwing, shaking my head and giving her a little slap. My disapproval is complete. You think: 'That's right, she shouldn't throw a stone even at a villain.' Then I hand her a brick to throw. ~ W.C. Fields

What'a wrong, Villa? Man, you look like shit!" Ramirez said from the driver's seat. The laughter in his voice only added to her misery. Great, now they were going to turn her into the butt of their jokes.
Not bothering to reply, she lifted her hand and extended the middle finger. She was too tired to tell him to fuck off. A loud smack drew her attention.
"What the hell was that for?" Ramirez complained, rubbing a hand over the back of his head, a deep frown creasing his forhead.
"She does not look like shit."Trent growled, turned toward her, and winked. "She looks like Sleeping Beauty."
"Yeah, um, I don't remember Sleeping Beauty looking like she got run over by the prince in the story."
Slap. Her lips quirked, and a smile broke free. She knew what trent was doing, and she appreciated him for it. Fatique beat at her muscles. However , she was so horny that if Trent let her hump his leg, she'd find the energy from somewhere.
"What the hell, you know I'm the one driving. Cut it out. I'm sorry, Villa. You know I still think you're hot."
Slap. Erica swallowed the laughter threatening to choke her.
"Now what?" Ramirez protested. "I said she looks hot."
"I know, that's why I hit you." Trent sounded annoyed.
"Oh man, you're in deep shit, bro. Seriously, I know you like her and all, but are you blind? Poor Villa might be hot but she looks like she hasn't slept in a week." He grinned at her through the mirror. ~ Milly Taiden

Your mother told you," he states flatly.
"Yeah," I snap. "She told me."
"She doesn't know everything. She doesn't know me...or how I feel. I would never force you to do anything against your will, and I would never, ever let anyone harm you."
His words enrage me. Lies, I'm convinced. My hand shoots out, ready to slap that earnest look off his face. The same earnest look he'd given me the first time he lid to my face.
He catches my hand, squeezes the wrist tight. "Jacinda-"
"I don't believe you. You gave me your word. Five weeks-"
"Five weeks was too long. I couldn't leave you for that long without checking on you."
"Because you're a liar," I assert.
His expression cracks. Emotion bleeds through. He knows I'm not talking about just the five weeks. With a shake of his head, he sounds almost sorry as he admits, "Maybe I didn't tell you everything, but it doesn't change anything I said. I will never hurt you. I want to try to protect you."
"Try," I repeat.
His jaw clenches. "I can. I can stop them."
After several moments, I twist my hand free. He lets me go. Rubbing my wrist, I glare at him. "I have a life here now." My fingers stretch, curl into talons at my sides, still hungry to fight him. "Make me go, and I'll never forgive you."
He inhales deeply, his broad chest lifting high. "Well. I can't have that."
"Then you'll go? Leave me alone?" Hope stirs.
He shakes his head. "I didn't say that."
"Of course n ~ Sophie Jordan

Sorry," I say to my father. "Hope we didn't wake you. After last night, I wanted to check on Harlin's arm."

He tilts his head like he is absolutely sure I'm lying. "And how is his arm, Elise?" he asks.

"Uh . . . better?"

My father stands motionless for a second, and then he shakes his head and walks into the kitchen. I hear the clink of cups, and then the running of water for the coffeepot.

"That was a nice save," Harlin says, sounding amused. "So detailed. Like a nurse."

"Shut up, Harlin," I say, trying not to smile. "I didn't hear you offer anything better."

"You sure you didn't want to tell him we were playing doctor? That might have sounded more believable."

I turn quickly and swat at him. He laughs, dodging my swing, and catches my hand. "I would tackle you right here," he says, leaning close. "Pin you and kiss you. But with the luck we have in your house, someone will walk in. And then what will you tell them?" he whispers. "That you were giving me CPR?"

"Stop!" I slap his shoulder again. ~ Suzanne Young

You and McNab sat around talking about women and sports."

"I don't believe we got to sports. He had a woman on his mind."

Eve's sneer vanished. "You talked to him about Peabody? Damn it, Roarke."

"I could hardly slap him back. He's so pitifully smitten."

"Oh." She winced. "Don't use that word."

"It fits. In fact, if he took my advice ..." He turned his wrist, glanced at the unit fastened there. "They should be well into their first date by now."

"Date? Date? Why did you do that? Why did you go and do something like that? Couldn't you leave it alone? They'd have had sex until they burned out on it, and everything would go back to normal."

He angled his head. "That didn't work for us, did it?"

"We don't work together." Then, when his eyes brightened with pure amusement, she showed her teeth. "Officially. You start mixing cops and romance and case files and gooey looks at briefings, you've got nothing but a mess. Next thing you know, Peabody will be wearing lip dye and smelly girl stuff and dragging body skimmers under her uniform."

She dropped her head in her hands. "Then they'll have tiffs and misunderstandings that have nothing whatsoever to do with the job. They'll come at me from both sides, and before you know it, they'll be telling me things I absolutely do not want to know. And when they break it off and decide they hate each other down to the guts, I'll have to hear about ~ J.D. Robb

When I lift her, she wraps her legs around me and I carry her to an oversized chair. I fall back onto it and giver her bum a good slap, making her scream, "Hey!"
I hush her complaint with another kiss, and pull her hips down against mine until she lets her head fall back and sinks into my lap perfectly.
It's still our wedding night. She's all mine until the sun rises and it's time to release her back into the world. Until then, let the celebration continue. ~ Wendy Higgins

I never knew it happened like that."
I snap my gaze to her. "What?"
"You know. Romeo and Juliet stuff. Love at first sight and all that."
"It's not like that," I say quickly.
"You could have fooled me." We're up again. Catherine takes her shot. It swishes cleanly through the hoop.
When I shoot, the ball bounces hard off the backboard and flies wildly through the air, knocking the coach in the head. I slap a hand over my mouth. The coach barely catches herself from falling. Several students laugh. She glares at me and readjusts her cap.
With a small wave of apology, I head back to the end of the line.
Will's there, fighting laughter. "Nice," he says. "Glad I'm downcourt of you."
I cross my arms and resist smiling, resist letting myself feel good around him. But he makes it hard. I want to smile. I want to like him, to be around him, to know him. "Happy to amuse you."
His smile slips then, and he's looking at me with that strange intensity again. Only I understand. I know why. He must remember...must recognize me on some level even though he can't understand it.
"You want to go out?" he asks suddenly.
I blink. "As in a date?"
"Yes. That's what a guy usually means when he asks that question."
Whistles blow. The guys and girls head in opposite directions.
"Half-court scrimmage," Will mutters, looking unhappy as he watches the coaches toss out jerseys. "We'll talk later in study hall. Okay?"
I nod, my chest ~ Sophie Jordan

When I shoot, the ball bounces hard against the backboard, and flies wildly through the air, knocking the coach in the head. I slap a hand over my mouth. The coach barely catches herself from falling. Several students laugh. She glares at me and readjusts her cap. With a small wave of apology, I head back to the end of the line. Will's there fighting laughter. "Nice," he says. "Glad I'm downcourt of you." I cross my arms and resist smiling, resist letting myself feel good around him. But he makes it hard. I want to smile. I want to like him, to be around him, to know him. "Happy to amuse you. ~ Sophie Jordan

Then I realize from the hollow sound of her gun's click that her gun isn't loaded. Apparently she just wants to slap me around with it.
The Girl doesn't move her gun away. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen."
"That's better." The Girl lowers her gun a little. "Time for a few confessions.Were you responsible for the break-in at the Arcadia bank?"
The ten-second place. "Yes."
"Then you must be responsible for stealing sixteen thousand five hundred Notes from there as well."
"You got that right."
"Were you responsible for vandalizing the Department of Intra-Defense two years ago, and destroying the engines of two warfront airships?"
"Yes."
"Did you set fire to a series of ten F-472 fighter jets parked at the Burbank air force base right before they were to head out to the warfront?"
"I'm kinda proud of that one."
"Did assault a cadet standing guard at the edge of the Alta sector's quarantine zone?"
"I tied him up and delivered food to some quarantined families.Bite me. ~ Marie Lu

Do you have a piece of paper I could write on?"

I jump up too fast. "Sure. Just one? Do you - of course you need something to write with. Sorry. Here." I grab him a paper from my deskdrawer and one of my myriad pencils, and he uses the first Children of Hypnos book as a flat surface to write on. When I'm sure he's writing something for me to read right now, I say, "I thought you only needed to do that when other people were around?"

He etches one careful line after the next. He frowns, shakes his head. "Sometimes it's . . . tough to say things. Certain things." His voice is hardly a whisper. I sit down beside him again, but his big hand blocks my view of the words. He stops writing, leaves the paper there, and stares.

Then he hands it to me and looks the other direction.

Can I kiss you?

"Um," is a delightfully complex word. "Um" means "I want to say something but don't know what it is," and also "You have caught me off guard," and also "Am I dreaming right now? Someone please slap me."

I say "um," then. Wallace's entire head-neck region is already flushed with color, but the "um" darkens it a few shades, and goddammit, he was nervous about asking me and I made it worse. What good is "um" when I should say "YES PLEASE NOW"? Except there's no way I'm going to say "YES PLEASE NOW" because I feel like my body is one big wired time bomb of organs and if Wallace so much as brushes my hand, I'm going to jump out of my ~ Francesca Zappia

Today's tangents will become tomorrow's arcs, and unforeseen connections will tie up your loose ends in a way that will make you want to slap your head and holler at your accidental brilliance. ~ Chris Baty

All right gentlemen, we have a job to do. At approximately 01:30 tonight, three children made an escape. Our job is to find them and bring them back. Every minute the factory is down, I lose two thousand, seven hundred and thirty-eight dollars and forty-seven cents. Therefore, we must find them and find them fast. They were last seen heading south by southwest in three makeshift kites. We'll head in that direction, fanning out and using our heat sensors to track them. Any questions?" Tubaface raised his hand. "Yes?"
"Where do babies come from?"
"That question is wholly innapropriate to our present situation. Someone slap him. ~ Sean Cullen

I fall asleep and dream that Mama and my former psychologist are sitting across from me, at either end of the sofa, talking. And that, every once in a while, Mama leans forward to feel my forehead or straighten the pillow she has slipped under my head. In my dream, I hear the psychologist say: So your friend was in love with your husband? Was that why she told him about the slap? To make him leave you? "Or ~ Caroline Eriksson

What makes psychopathy so different, so surreal, so much like a relational b@$*tch-slap that it nearly knocks her head off?

--The sensation of being emotionally 'jumped' from behind.
--The inability to wrap her head around the emotional-physical-spiritual-sexual gang-bang that just happened when she thought she was with the most wonderful person.

No one can figure out how a dangerous psychopath curled up to them like a purring cat. Half of recovery is just trying to figure out 'what was THAT? ~ Sandra L. Brown

All acts of sex were forms of degradation.
... What do you do with the Serious Young Woman (short hair, flat shoes, body slightly hunched, head drifting back and forth between the books she's read)? You slap her, fuck her up the ass and treat her like a boy. The Serious Young Woman looked everywhere for sex but when she got it it became an exercise in disintegration. What was the motivation of these men? Was it hatred she evoked? Was it some kind of challenge, trying to make the Serious Young Woman femme? ~ Chris Kraus

It isn't your problem." She leaned back, glaring and speaking. "Yeah. That's the part that makes me want to slap you upside your head. ~ Kristen Ashley

My mind blurs to a ripple of pleasure when his soft, full lips at last make contact with mine. He starts to deepen the kiss, but pauses, intent on the glass behind me. "You gotta be kidding."
I glance over my shoulder. Outside, Morpheus hangs on the glass in moth form, level with my head, glaring at us with his bulbous gaze. Even without a face, his smugness is apparent. His favorite pastime is interrupting Jeb's romantic moments. I try not to laugh, but can't help myself.
"Cocky son of a bug." Jeb sets me on the floor and draws the dropcloth tighter around me.
A barn owl swoops from the sky and skims the glass. Morpheus launches off in a tizzy, trying to outrun the bird. Now Jeb's the one laughing.
I slap his shoulder. "Hey, that's not funny."
"Ah, he'll be okay." Jeb raises an eyebrow, watching the aerial pursuit taking place outside the glass. "It's a new genus of vegetarian owls. They're only in it for the chase. Besides, Morphie-boy can change to his other form anytime he wants." ~ A.G. Howard

I tried to nutmeg him. It never came off and he gave me a slap on the back of the head and told me to start behaving ~ Steven Gerrard

So . . . how are we getting out of here? Do I still have to?"
"Yes. That thing over there"-he points as he unhooks my coat from the hanger-"is an elevator. You've been in it before. With me, in fact. I'll step you through the process."
"What if someone sees us?"
"You say that now? Lucinda, you're priceless."
I slap my keyboard to lock my computer, snatch my handbag and clatter after him. I try to tug my coat from his arm but he shakes his head and tuts. The elevator doors open and he tugs me in, his hand at my waist.
I turn to see Helene, leaning on her doorframe, her posture one of casual amusement. She then throws her head back and laughs in delight, clapping her hands together. He waves to Helene as the doors close. ~ Sally Thorne

The stinging slap against her cheek whipped her head sideways. Her hand reflexively went to her burning face.
"I told you no," Tobe said, barely above a whisper.
Daphne had no words. He'd never so much as hinted at touching her in anger before. She now understood what stunned speechless meant. ~ Hunter Shea

Like a child, I close my eyes as if they can't see me either. The fire from the kiss broadcasts itself all over me in the form of a full-body blush.
Galen laughs. "There it is," he says, running his thumb over my bottom lip. "That is my favorite color. Wow."
I'm going to kill him. "Galen. Please. Come. With. Me," I coke out. Gliding past him, my bare feet slap against the tile until I'm stomping on carpet in the hallway, then up the stairs.
I can tell by the prickles on my skin that he's following like a good dead fish. As I reach the ladder to the uppermost level, I nod to him to keep following before I hoist myself up. Pacing the room until he gets through the trap door, I count more Mississipis than I've ever counted in my whole life.
He closes the door and locks it shut but makes no move to come closer. Still, for a person who's about to die, he seems more amused than he should. I point my finger at him, but can't decide what to accuse him of first, so I put it back down.
After several moments of this, he breaks the silence. "Emma, calm down."
"Don't tell me what to do, Highness." I dare him with my eyes to call me "boo."
Instead of the apology I'm looking for, his eyes tell me he's considering kissing me again, right now.
Which is meant to distract me. Tearing my gaze from his mouth, I stride to the window seat and move the mountains of pillows on it. Making myself comfortable, I lean my head against the window. He knows as well as ~ Anna Banks

It's been a long time since I've loved someone, but I know what it feels like. When you turn from me, it hurts. When you think badly of me, I think badly of myself. When you do stupid, suicidal things, I want to slap you upside the head and demand to know how you can be so brilliant and so blind at the same time." Tybalt's expression was calm. "If that's not love, what is it?"

"Why are you telling me this?" I whispered.

"Because we're probably going to die today." He waved his free hand toward the street. "I've always tried not to lie to you; I've seen how you react when others do. Dying without telling you how I felt would be lying. I've been patient. I've given you time to recognize my feelings, and I've seen you choose a man who loved the girl you were, not the woman you are. Now he's gone, and I can't be patient anymore. I love you, October. I'll be sorry if we die here, but I won't be sorry I helped you… and I won't be sorry I finally told you."

"Tybalt…"

"Cats never regret anything," he said, and he turned and kissed me. ~ Seanan McGuire

Another tidbit you might be interested in is when it comes to chicks and open mouths, guys -" Decebel leaned over and covered Jen's mouth with his hand and warned her with a glare to swallow her words.
"Thanks, Dec. That's usually my job,"
Sally told him. "But I was in such shock that I couldn't get my limbs to move."
Decebel inclined his head. "Is that why you always seem to stand so close to her?"
"It's of utmost importance that whoever is within her reach be ready at any and all moments to intercept what might come from that wicked tongue."
en was frantically trying to talk around Decebel's hand at Sally's comment. Decebel was quickly learning how Jennifer's brain worked, and could only imagine what she wanted to voice in regards to Sally's wicked tongue comment. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "I'm going to uncover your mouth. It would be wise of you to just let the wicked tongue comment slide."
Jen glared at him from the corner of her eye, and after a tense moment finally nodded once in submission. Decebel slowly uncovered her mouth, ready if need be to slap it right back over her lips.
The room began to get quiet and they all directed their attention to the front of the room. As Vasile welcomed everyone for coming and began to explain about the meeting he had with the other Alphas, Jen leaned over to Decebel. "You owe me. Sally walked right into it with that whole wicked tongue thing."
Decebel chuckled and whispered back, ~ Quinn Loftis

No, madam,' I said to the woman in my ESL English. "That's my mom. I came out her asshole and I love her very much. I am seven. Next year I will be eight. I'm doing fine."...
You believed, like many Vietnamese mothers, that to speak of female genitalia, especially between mothers adn sons, is considered taboo- so when talking about birth, you always mentioned that I had come out of your anus. You would playfully slap my head and say,'This huge noggin nearly tore up my asshole! ~ Ocean Vuong

While dragging herself up she had to hang onto the rail. Her twisted progress was that of a cripple. Once on the open deck she felt the solid impact of the black night, and the mobility of the accidental home she was about to leave.
Although Lucette had never died before - no, dived before, Violet - from such a height, in such a disorder of shadows and snaking reflections, she went with hardly a splash through the wave that humped to welcome her. That perfect end was spoiled by her instinctively surfacing in an immediate sweep - instead of surrendering under water to her drugged lassitude as she had planned to do on her last night ashore if it ever did come to this. The silly girl had not rehearsed the technique of suicide as, say, free-fall parachutists do every day in the element of another chapter.
Owing to the tumultuous swell and her not being sure which way to peer through the spray and the darkness and her own tentaclinging hair - t,a,c,l - she could not make out the lights of the liner, an easily imagined many-eyed bulk mightily receding in heartless triumph. Now I've lost my next note.
Got it.
The sky was also heartless and dark, and her body, her head,and particularly those damned thirsty trousers, felt clogged with Oceanus Nox, n,o,x. At every slap and splash of cold wild salt, she heaved with anise-flavored nausea and there was an increasing number, okay, or numbness, in her neck and arms. As she began losing track of herself, she thought i ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Because I cursed him to it. (Acheron) Be glad I'm not physically there or I'd slap you upside the head. You know how free will works, so stop the whining and get off the cross. Someone needs the wood. (Savitar) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Aren't you coming with us?"
I feel his hand on my cheek. I know what this means and I slap his hand away.
"You're coming with us, Evan," I say.
"There's something I have to do."
"That's right." My hand flails for his in the dark. I find it and pull hard. "You have to come with us."
"I'll find you, Cassie. Don't I always find you? I - "
"Don't, Evan. You don't know you'll be able to find me."
"Cassie." I don't like the way he says my name. His voice is too soft, too sad, too much like a good-bye voice. "I was wrong when I said I was both and neither. I can't be; I know that now. I have to choose."
"Wait a minute," Ben says. "Cassie, this guy is one of them?"
"It's complicated," I answer. "We'll go over it later." I grab Evan's hand in both of mine and press it against my chest. "Don't leave me again."
"You left me, remember?" He spreads his fingers over my heart, like he's holding it, like it belongs to him, the hard-fought-for territory he's won fair and square.
I give in. What am I going to do, put a gun to his head? He's gotten this far, I tell myself. He'll get the rest of the way.
"What's due north?" I ask, pushing against his fingers.
"I don't know. But it's the shortest path to the farthest spot."
"The farthest spot from what?"
"From here. Wait for the plane. When the plane takes off, run. Ben, do you think you can run?"
"I think so."
"Run fast?"
"Yes." He doesn't sound too c ~ Rick Yancey

Digging

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked,
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade.
Just like his old man.

My grandfather cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, going down and down
For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it. ~ Seamus Heaney

I'm probably my biggest critic. I worry that if you spend any quality time reveling in good things then karma will slap you upside the head, so I try to stay as even keel as I'm able. ~ Neil Patrick Harris

Wimps take life as it comes; superior people slap life up the side of the head until it gives them turf. ~ Jim Davis

Sometimes those fears creep into the back of your head, but then you slap yourself and think, 'Oh, woe is me! People actually like me.' What a silly thing to worry about. This is a huge opportunity, and I'm excited. ~ Ben McKenzie

Well, I did tell you I couldn't give you a thing. Maybe you've just realised that Alistair can give the god damn world, and the pleasure of kissing his shiny slap-head every day! ~ LeeAnn Whitaker