Kendial Lawrences Birthday Quotes

I can still remember the afternoon, on my 15th birthday, when I opened up 'The Virgin and the Gypsy,' D.H. Lawrence's novella, in my tiny cell in boarding school, and whole worlds of possibility opened out that I had never guessed existed. The language was on fire and sang of liberation. ~ Pico Iyer

Do you need some birthday dick? I once got dick for my birthday - my first birthday, in fact. That's how they knew I was a boy. ~ Jarod Kintz

Anyone who writes an autobiographical work at the age of 34 is, at best, presumptuous. It occurred to me that it was time to set the record straight. ~ Jessica Savitch

The manner of giving is worth more than the gift. ~ Pierre Corneille

And the reason parenting is becoming increasingly crucial is that we now live in a world that is more fucked up than Peter O'Toole on his birthday. ~ Dennis Miller

It was a garden, a walled garden. Overgrown but with beautiful bones visible still. Someone had cared for this garden once. The remains of two paths snaked back and forth, intertwined like the lacing on an Irish dancing shoe. Fruit trees had been espaliered around the sides, and wires zigzagged from the top of one wall to the top of another. Hungry, wisteria branches had woven themselves around to form a sort of canopy.
Against the southern wall, an ancient and knobbled tree was growing. Cassandra went closer. It was the apple tree, she realized, the one whose bough had reached over the wall. She lifted her hand to touch one of the golden fruit. The tree was about sixteen feet high and shaped like the Japanese bonsai plant Nell had given Cassandra for her twelfth birthday. ~ Kate Morton

Until my thirtieth year, I lived in a state of almost continuous anxiety interspersed with periods of suicidal depression. It feels now as if I am talking about some past lifetime or somebody else's life.

One night not long after my twenty-ninth birthday, I woke up in the early hours with a feeling of absolute dread. I had woken up with such a feeling many times before, but this time it was more intense than it had ever been. The silence of the night, the vague outlines of the furniture in the dark room, the distant noise of a passing train – everything felt so alien, so hostile, and so utterly meaningless that it created in me a deep loathing of the world. The most loathsome thing of all, however, was my own existence. What was the point in continuing to live with this burden of misery? Why carry on with this continuous struggle? I could feel that a deep longing for annihilation, for nonexistence, was now becoming much stronger than the instinctive desire to continue to live.

'I cannot live with myself any longer.' This was the thought that kept repeating itself in my mind. Then suddenly I became aware of what a peculiar thought it was. 'Am I one or two? If I cannot live with myself, there must be two of me: the 'I' and the 'self' that 'I' cannot live with.' 'Maybe,' I thought, 'only one of them is real.'

I was so stunned by this strange realization that my mind stopped. I was fully conscious, but there were no more thoughts. Then I felt draw ~ Eckhart Tolle

Ten Things To Do In January:

•Read a good book
•Get a Library Card
•Walk 30 minutes a day
•Send a Birthday card to a friend
•Invest in a Fitness Tracker
•Buy a Coin jar and save those quarters and nickels
•Donate to a Charity
•Volunteer 45 minutes of your time to an Organization
•Take a Yoga Class
•Volunteer at Bingo night a Nursing Home ~ Charmaine J. Forde

Christmas has a deeper significance to followers of Jesus. It's not all about the gifts underneath Christmas trees or the elaborate meals served in extravagantly decorated homes. Christmas is the season of Immanuel. We celebrate the good news that He is near, that He cares for us, and that He transforms lives. His presence was the greatest present God gave mankind. May we be present carriers of that presence! ~ Katherine J. Walden

I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, ignoring the bite of the frosty air on my bare skin. I launched myself in the direction of the door, fumbling around until I found it. I tried shaking the handle, jiggling it, still thinking, hoping, praying that this was some big birthday surprise, and that by the time I got back inside, there would be a plate of pancakes at the table and Dad would bring in the presents, and we could - we could - we could pretend like the night before had never happened, even with the evidence in the next room over.
The door was locked.
"I'm sorry!" I was screaming. Pounding my fists against it. "Mommy, I'm sorry! Please!"
Dad appeared a moment later, his stocky shape outlined by the light from inside of the house. I saw Mom's bright-red face over his shoulder; he turned to wave her off and then reached over to flip on the overhead lights.
"Dad!" I said, throwing my arms around his waist. He let me keep them there, but all I got in return was a light pat on the back.
"You're safe," he told me, in his usual soft, rumbling voice.
"Dad - there's something wrong with her," I was babbling. The tears were burning my cheeks. "I didn't mean to be bad! You have to fix her, okay? She's…she's…"
"I know, I believe you."
At that, he carefully peeled my arms off his uniform and guided me down, so we were sitting on the step, facing Mom's maroon sedan. He was fumbling in his pockets for something, listening to me as I told ~ Alexandra Bracken

Don't send funny greeting cards on birthdays or at Christmas. Save them for funerals, when their cheery effect is needed. ~ P. J. O'Rourke

I glanced over and saw Wyatt glaring at me. Journey's "Lovin' Touchin', Squeezin'" was playing on the radio.

"What?" I asked.

"You secretly hate me, don't you." He gestured toward the radio. "You can't stand the thought of me taking a much needed nap and leaving you to drive without conversation. You're torturing me with this sappy stuff."

"It's Journey. I love this song."

Wyatt mumbled something under his breath, picked up the CD case, and started looking through it. He paused with a choked noise, his eyes growing huge.

"You're joking, Sam. Justin Bieber? What are you, a twelve-year old girl?"

There's gonna be one less lonely girl, I sang in my head. That was a great song. How could he not like that song? Still, I squirmed a bit in embarrassment.

"A twelve-year old girl gave me that CD," I lied. "For my birthday."

Wyatt snorted. "It's a good thing you're a terrible liar. Otherwise, I'd be horrified at the thought that a demon has been hanging out with a bunch of giggling pre-teens."

He continued to thumb through the CDs. "Air Supply Greatest Hits? No, no, I'm wrong here. It's an Air Supply cover band in Spanish." He waved the offending CD in my face. "Sam, what on earth are you thinking? How did you even get this thing?"

"Some tenant left it behind," I told him. "We evicted him, and there were all these CDs. Most were in Spanish, but I've got a Barry Manilow in there ~ Debra Dunbar

There's a gift in your lap and it's beautifully wrapped and it's not your birthday. You feel wonderful, you feel like somebody knows you're alive, you feel fear because it could be a bomb, because you think you're that important. ~ Aimee Bender

Middle age is when your old classmates are so grey and wrinkled and bald they don't recognize you. ~ Bennett Cerf

I suddenly realized how much I loved her when we attended Alfred Hitchcock's 75th birthday party last August. There was something magical about that night, and it made me see how much she really meant to me. ~ Rod Taylor

Don't worry about middle age: you'll outgrow it. ~ Laurence J. Peter

A slice of cake never made anyone fat. You don't eat the whole cake. You don't eat a cake every day of your life. You take the cake when it is offered because the cake is delicious. You have a slice of cake and what it reminds you of is someplace that's safe, uncomplicated, without stress. A cake is a party, a birthday, a wedding. A cake is what is served on the happiest days of your life. ~ Jeanne Ray

Why are you here?"
"'Here' as in your bedroom, or 'here' as in the great, spiritual question of our purpose here on this planet? If you're asking me whether this is all some cosmic coincidence or if there's a greater meta-ethical purpose to life, well, that's a puzzler for the ages. I mean, modern-day reductionism is clearly a fallacious argument, but-,"
-"I'm going back to bed."
-"I'm here because Hodge reminded me it's your birthday. ~ Cassandra Clare

The greatest thing in life is to die young - but delay it as long as possible. ~ George Bernard Shaw

Happy birthday, he sighed, and leaned down to touch his lips to mine.
I reached up on my toes to make the kiss last longer when he pulled away. He smiled my favorite crooked smile, and then he disappeared into the darkness. ~ Stephenie Meyer

My policy on cake is pro having it and pro eating it. ~ Boris Johnson

Happy birthday. Your thirteenth is important. Maybe your first really public day. Your thirteenth is the chance for people to recognize that important things are happening to you.
Things have been happening to you for the past half year. You have seven hairs in your left armpit now. Twelve in your right. Hard dangerous spirals of brittle black hair. Crunchy, animal hair. There are now more of the hard curled hairs around your privates than you can count without losing track. Other things. Your voice is rich and scratchy and moves between octaves without any warning. Your face has begun to get shiny when you don't wash it. And two weeks of a deep and frightening ache this past spring left you with something dropped down from inside: your sack is now full and vulnerable, a commodity to be protected. Hefted and strapped in tight supporters that stripe your buttocks red. You have grown into a new fragility.

And dreams. For months there have been dreams like nothing before: moist and busy and distant, full of unyielding curves, frantic pistons, warmth and a great falling; and you have awakened through fluttering lids to a rush and a gush and a toe-curling scalp-snapping jolt of feeling from an inside deeper than you knew you had, spasms of a deep sweet hurt, the streetlights through your window blinds crackling into sharp stars against the black bedroom ceiling, and on you a dense white jam that lisps between legs, trickles and sticks, cools on you, hardens and cle ~ David Foster Wallace

Man, first I'm shot, now I'm going to be a friggin' zombie. At this rate, I'll never live to have my first date or a driver's license. Ah, gah! I've come too far to die a predestrian virgin. Bubba, you can't let me die ... I only have seventeen more months and three days to my sixteenth birthday! (Nick) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

The few other shoppers were women like herself. Widows, perhaps, but grandmothers surely, out hunting for birthday gifts or bargains to store away for next winter. They shuffled in a daze from bin to bin, and Margaret read in every face some suffering or disappointment, their hopes and dreams marked down, 40 percent off. ~ Keith Donohue

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

I smiled, then shivered. "It's dark so early these days."
"Today's Winter Solstice - shortest day of the year."
"Gee, thanks a lot. Way to pick the shortest day of the bleeping year for my birthday."
He laughed and put his arms around me. "Ah, but the longest night ... "
"Scandalous!"
He blinked innocently at me. "What? More time for movies, right?"
"Sure ... ~ Kiersten White

Ten yeaars ago, on my sixth birthday, my father disappeared.
No, he didn't leave. Leaving would imply suitcases and empty drawers, and late birthday cards with ten-dollar bills stuffed inside.Leaving would imply he was unhappy with Mom and me, or he found a new love elsewhere. None of that was true. ~ Julie Kagawa

My parents explained: "You can either have a big Christmas and birthday present or we'll go abroad." We'd say: "Let's go abroad!" We had a lovely childhood. ~ Nicki Chapman

That was when I saw their hate come out. They fought on the front lawn. Balloons and my birthday cake stood witness as I watched every regretful blow from my mother. I knew my sister was at war with my mother, but I never knew what her cruelty was capable of. My mother's military was larger than Jayme's. My mother already had my father, and she had her five children, including me. ~ Joseph McGinnis

I festered with this duality of love and ego, where ego scorns the very love its seeking and then despairs in its absence. ~ Meghna Pant

Traditionally Presidents Day was Washington's birthday. It was celebrated as a public holiday on February 22 each year, in peace or in war. ~ Nigel Hamilton

Birth may be a matter of a moment, but it is a unique one. ~ Frederick Leboyer

Death did this to people: making cowards, scapegoats, preachers and mourners of the living; while the dead – ignoble or not – became objects of respect for achieving something before the rest of us. ~ Meghna Pant

One compensation of old age is that it excuses you from picnics. ~ William Feather

I'm not big on dark chocolate, but I do have a sweet tooth, so it gets me in trouble. I love warm chocolate chip cookies with ice cream. Then there's this chocolate pie my mom makes for me every year for my birthday. She's been making it since I was younger, and there's nothing like it. It's really so, so good! ~ Phillip Phillips

A clone would make a great birthday gift, because it's the only gift that keeps on giving. At least it'd better give me a birthday present every year. It owes its life to me. ~ Jarod Kintz

We will never fight again, our lovely, quick, template-ready arguments. Our delicate cross-stitch of bickers.

The house becomes a physical encyclopedia of no-longer hers, which shocks and shocks and is the principal difference between our house and a house where illness has worked away. Ill people, in their last day on Earth, do not leave notes stuck to bottles of red wine saying 'OH NO YOU DON'T COCK-CHEEK'. She was not busy dying, and there is no detritus of care, she was simply busy living, and then she was gone.

She won't ever use (make-up, turmeric, hairbrush, thesaurus).

She will never finish (Patricia Highsmith novel, peanut butter, lip balm).

And I will never shop for green Virago Classics for her birthday.

I will stop finding her hairs.


I will stop hearing her breathing. ~ Max Porter

I actually had the pleasure of meeting David Bowie at his 50th birthday party in New York City. I handed him the cassette of 'Eight Arms to Hold You,' which I had just got an advance of that day. He very graciously thanked me and tucked it into his jacket pocket. ~ Louise Post

Is it birthday weather for you, dear soul?
Is it fine your way,
With tall moon-daisies alight, and the mole
Busy, and elegant hares at play
By meadow paths where once you would stroll
In the flush of day? ~ Cecil Day-Lewis

You really must stop acting
Like a 20-year-old, gold plated
In a midlife crisis
You just graduated
Happy 60th ~ John Walter Bratton