“But I recently celebrated my thirtieth birthday and became acutely aware of my age, and the passing of time.”

“I celebrate my birthday in ways not seen this side of the Old Testament. I celebrate my life like the Dead Sea, and my party is a BYOP (bring your own plague) event.”

“When I think about my clone, random songs pop into my head. Songs like, “Happy Birthday.” Will he celebrate the same birthday as me? He’d better, because without me, there’d be nothing for him to celebrate.”

“...as a woman who was raised with the idea that the world was at my fingertips, that anything I wanted could be mine for the taking, on the eve of my thirtieth birthday I am ready to stand up and say that trying to have it all is not all it's cracked up to be.”

“I started to feel that nagging sense of shame again, an acute awareness of my own inability to share in his [my grandfather's] optimism.”

“I don’t like to celebrate my birthday, because I don’t like taking credit for others’ work—in this case, my mom and dad. Or possibly my mom and the mailman.
”