“My birthday!--what a different sound that word had in my youthful ears; And how each time the day comes round, less and less white its mark appears.
“There are three hundred and sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents ... and only one for birthday presents, you know.
“Believing hear, what you deserve to hear: Your birthday as my own to me is dear... But yours gives most; for mine did only lend me to the world; yours gave to me a friend
“The return of my birthday, if I remember it, fills me with thoughts which it seems to be the general care of humanity to escape
“What ought to be done to the man who invented the celebrating of anniversaries? Mere killing would be too light