“When congratulations are in order, I like to wait until they’re out of order to offer a high five or enthusiastic pat on the back.”

“I wish success could be ordered like delivery pizza, because I’d order take out.”

“I did not approve of your action—I was merely congratulating myself. What you mistook for clapping was merely me giving myself multiple high fives.”

“The best thing to do with a seven-year-old is wait until they’re eight to tell them to wait until they’re 18 to start living life.”

“She said, “You disgust me. How do you live with yourself?” So I said, “Like I live with my clone: with many pats on the back, accompanied by high flattery.”

“It’s impossible for me to applaud your successes when my hands are too busy patting myself on the back. But if I clap for you, and you pat my back, we can both feel like winners.”

“I have assigned myself a Hooray Factor of five. This is the top level, and is the only level that has a physical representation—that of a high five. But don’t try to give me a high five, because I’m the only person in the world with a Hooray Factor of five. So until my clones get here, I’ll just have to continue to high five my reflection in the mirror.”