Day You Were Born Birthday Quotes & Sayings

Birthdays? yes, in a general way;
For the most if not for the best of men:
You were born (I suppose) on a certain day:
So was I: or perhaps in the night: what then? — James Kenneth Stephen

To those Romans December twenty-fifth was the birthday of the sun. They wrote that in gold letters in their calendar. Every year about that time, the middle of winter, the sun was born once more and it was going to put an end to the darkness and misery of winter. So they had a great feast, with presents and dolls for everybody, and the best day of all was December twenty-fifth. That feast, they would tell you, was thousands of years old- before Christ was ever heard of. — John G. Jackson

On this day long ago, a child was born who, by age 30, would transform the world. Happy Birthday Isaac Newton b. Dec 25, 1642 — Neil DeGrasse Tyson

Jesus, it's the beloved day we call Christmas Eve, the date we've set aside to remember and reflect upon your nativity. Luke took so much care to fix your birthday in the context of real history and a real world, but whether or not you were born anywhere close to December 25 is not important at all. That you were born - that you actually came from eternity into time and space - that's what's important, Jesus. I sing to you today with all the passion and delight I can possibly muster, "Born that man (including me) no more may die, born to raise the sons of earth (including me), born to give them (including me) second birth." For the certainty of your birth, and therefore my rebirth, I give you great praise. — Scotty Smith

If we have any role at all, I think it's the role of optimism, not blind or stupid optimism, but the kind which is meaningful, one that is rather close to that notion of the world which is not perfect, but which can be improved. In other words, we don't just sit and hope that things will work out; we have a role to play to make that come about. — Chinua Achebe

I timed my previous wife's pregnancy to the moment to have my son born on Bob Dylan's 50th birthday. There is no bigger Bob Dylan fan than me. You don't just time the day and impregnate your wife to get your kid to be born on Bob Dylan's 50th birthday. — Charlie Trotter

Cut him out in little stars. — William Shakespeare

They count that as your birthday
the day your mother gets up."
"Not the day you were born?"
Not the day you came out. They count the mother getting better as all part of the birth. — Barbara Kingsolver

No mortal man has ever served at the same time his passions and his best interests. — Sallust

My parents were very pleased that I was in the army. The fact that I hated it somehow pleased them even more. — Barry Humphries

I was fiercely aware that the instant his mouth touched mine, I was no longer my own. He would love me or break me, the choice was his. — Rachael Wade

We all have special numbers in our lives, and 4 is that for me. It's the day I was born. My mother's birthday, and a lot of my friends' birthdays, are on the fourth; April 4 is my wedding date. — Beyonce Knowles

Speaking of, "When is your birthday?" Strider asked Kaia.
Wide silver-gold eyes swung to him. "You don't know?"
"No."
Pouting, she twirled a strand of her hair. "How can you not know?"
"Do you know mine?" he asked.
"Of course I do. It's the day you met me.
As good a day as any. "No, it's not, because that was a trick question, baby doll. I don't actually have a birthday. I was created fully formed, not born." True story.
"You can be such a moron." She threw up her arms, exasperated. "Don't argue with me about this kind of thing. I'll always be right. Seriously. You were dead until you met me and we both know it. Which means I brought you to life. So, happy belated birthday. — Gena Showalter

Man's main task in life is to give birth to himself, to become what he potentially is. The most important product of his effort is his own personality. — Erich Fromm

A Mexican newspaper recently ran a story about how the Converse shoe company was making tennis shoes in China using Mexican glue. "The whole article was about why are we giving them our glue," said Zedillo, "when the right attitude would be, How much more glue can we sell them? We still need to break some mental barriers. — Thomas L. Friedman

I love to think that the day you're born, you're given the world as a birthday present. — Leo Buscaglia

What more shall I say: born under light bulbs, deliberately stopped growing at age of three, given drum, sang glass to pieces, smelled vanilla, coughed in churches, observed ants, decided to grow, buried drum, emigrated to the West, lost the East, learned stonecutter's trade, worked as model, started drumming again, visited concrete, made money, kept finger, gave finger away, fled laughing, rode up escalator, arrested, convicted, sent to mental hospital, soon to be acquitted, celebrating this day my thirtieth birthday and still afraid of the Black Witch. Chapter 46, pg. 587 — Gunter Grass

A person's birthday should be a special day, a wonderful day, a day of pure celebration for the luck of being born! — Elise Broach

If your parents are still alive, call them today and ask them to describe the day you were born. Write the details down here, on the following pages. Tell the story every year on your birthday until you know it by heart. — Amy Poehler

Once upon a time, a girl named September grew very tired indeed of her parents' house, where she washed the same pink-and-yellow teacups and matching gravy boats every day, slept on the same embroidered pillow, and played with the same small and amiable dog. Because she had been born in May, and because she had a mole on her left cheek, and because her feet were very large and ungainly, the Green Wind took pity on her and flew to her window one evening just after her twelfth birthday. — Catherynne M Valente

At the emergence of the modern novel with Rabelais and Cervantes, all kinds of things were possible in a long-form prose work. Within a couple of hundred years, most of those possibilities were abandoned in favor of a text that efficiently transmitted sentiments. — Teju Cole

The second simultaneous thing Reacher was doing was playing around with a little mental arithmetic. He was multiplying big numbers in his head. He was thirty-seven years and eight months old, just about to the day. Thirty-seven multiplied by three hundred and sixty-five was thirteen thousand five hundred and five. Plus twelve days for twelve leap years was thirteen thousand five hundred and seventeen. Eight months counting from his birthday in October forward to this date in June was two hundred and forty-three days. Total of thirteen thousand seven hundred and sixty days since he was born. Thirteen thousand seven hundred and sixty days, thirteen thousand seven hundred and sixty nights. He was trying to place this particular night somewhere on that endless scale. In terms of how bad it was. Truth was, it wasn't the best night he had ever passed, but it was a long way from being the worst. A very long way. — Lee Child

Good morning, Sunshine," Alessandro whispered, dragging the satiny soft object across the tip of her nose. Curiosity made her open her eyes. A rose. A blue rose. "I figured a single rose was safer than a dozen considering the massacre of the last blue roses I gave you," he smiled sheepishly. "Happy birthday, darling." Bree blinked and tried to remember what day it was. The fifteenth apparently. She groaned and pulled the blankets back over her head. She was officially thirty today. "Come on now, up we go," Alessandro pulled the blankets off her face and grabbed her arm, bringing her up. "For my birthday, I want sleep," she groaned. Gianni had suffered through a painful night as another tooth was starting to come in and thus his parents had suffered as well. "Nope, we've got a long day ahead of us. Let's go." "Why?" Bree yawned. "Because thirty years ago you were born and my life as I knew it would never be the same," Alessandro explained, nuzzling her neck. — E. Jamie

One's true religion is what one cares about most. — Walter Starcke

Glen had a disability more disfiguring than a burn and more terrifying than cancer.
Glen had been born on the day after Christmas.
"My parents just combine my birthday with Christmas, that's all," he explained.
But we knew this was a lie. Glen's parents just wrapped a couple of his Christmas presents in birthday-themed wrapping paper, stuck some candles in a supermarket cake, and had a dinner of Christmas leftovers. — Augusten Burroughs

I'm a huge Rugby Union fan, which is a bit like American football - but tougher. — Alexander Hanson

The bigger story here is that the fabric of the Net has changed; it's a place for people to connect up around shared interests and then collaborate towards some sort of action. — Steve Rubel

The day you were born
Heaven wept at its great loss,
Earth joyed at its gain. — Richelle E. Goodrich

I kept a diary right after I was born. Day 1: Tired from the move. Day 2: Everyone thinks I'm an idiot. — Steven Wright

For certain you can be helped, should you accept it. But as far as being made ... no one can do that. This occurred on the day you were born. An earth day is not a birth day. Own what you create as well as what you break. — T.F. Hodge

I think I've wanted to be an actress since the day I was born. I even asked my parents for an agent for my seventh birthday! — Shoshannah Stern

He wasn't like some of the hippies in England, where the qualification to rebel is planted by the guilt raised from being a spoilt child with a good education. He was a real hippy born from being forced to kill for his army until he was twenty one. He had long hair because the army made him shave his head. The army made him shave every day too. Now he had a beard. His face for a long time was not his own. When this guy said he was all about peace he wasn't talking about peace because his mum never got him the horse he wanted for his eighteenth birthday, he was talking about peace because he'd seen war. He talked about love because he knew hate: hate for those above him, hate for those he had served with, hate for enemies not born his but who became so and, lastly, hate for himself for how his mind had been controlled. — Craig Stone

So she told me a story. A story about a boy who was born with very green eyes, and the man who was so captivated by their color that he searched the world for a stone in exactly the same shade." His voice is fading now, falling into whispers so quiet I can hardly hear him. "She said the boy was me. That this ring was made from that very same stone, and that the man had given it to her, hoping one day she'd be able to give it to me. It was his gift, she said, for my birthday." He stops. Breathes. "And then she took it off, slipped it on my index finger, and said, 'If you hide your heart, he will never be able to take it from you'. — Tahereh Mafi

in the future, the defining metric for organizations won't be ROI (Return on Investment), but ROL (Return on Learning). — Salim Ismail

Tartuffe: For heaven's sake! Before you speak, I pray you take this handkerchief.
Dorine: Whatever do you mean?
Tartuffe: Cove your bosom. I can't bear to see it. Such pernicious sights give rise to sinful thoughts.
Dorine: You're mighty susceptible to temptation then! The flesh must make a great impression on you! I really don't know why you should get so excited. I can't say that I'm so easily roused. I could see you naked from head to foot and your whole carcass wouldn't tempt me in the least. — Moliere

I was born on Nov. 4, which is election day ... my birthday has made more men and sent more back to honest work than any other days in the year. — Will Rogers

I liked Nixon fine, but Nixon was not a partier. — George Smathers

Jesus, you know I was walking back to the huddle and I looked over and, god damn, I almost flipped when I saw you and Davis standing together on the sideline. I thought, man, the world really is changing when you see a thing like that - Hunter Thompson and Al Davis - Christ, you know that's the first time I ever saw anybody with Davis during practice; the bastard's always alone out there, just pacing back and forth like a goddamn beast. ... — Hunter S. Thompson