Because time itself is like a spiral, something special happens on your birthday each year: The same energy that God invested in you at birth is present once again. ~Menachem Mendel Schneerson
Dad, you're someone to look up to no matter how tall I've grown. ~Author Unknown
Birthdays are good for you. Statistics show that the people who have the most live the longest. ~Larry Lorenzoni
When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it had happened or not; but my faculties are decaying now and soon I shall be so I cannot remember any but the things that never happened. It is sad to go to pieces like this but we all have to do it. ~Mark Twain
We know we're getting old when the only thing we want for our birthday is not to be reminded of it. ~Author Unknown
First you forget names; then you forget faces; then you forget to zip up your fly; and then you forget to unzip your fly. ~Branch Rickey
Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself. ~Tom Wilson
A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age. ~Robert Frost
My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, "You're tearing up the grass." "We're not raising grass," Dad would reply. "We're raising boys." ~Harmon Killebrew
Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself. ~Tom Wilson
It would seem that something which means poverty, disorder and violence every single day should be avoided entirely, but the desire to beget children is a natural urge. ~Phyllis Diller
Henry James once defined life as that predicament which precedes death, and certainly nobody owes you a debt of honor or gratitude for getting him into that predicament. But a child does owe his father a debt, if Dad, having gotten him into this peck of trouble, takes off his coat and buckles down to the job of showing his son how best to crash through it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
Blessed indeed is the man who hears many gentle voices call him father! ~Lydia M. Child, Philothea: A Romance, 1836
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