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There was some indecision as to when I was born. My sister said it was 1916. I'd lost my birth certificate.

Everyone has their dates. For me, it's 1991. I can place every memory of my life either before or after this date. It's the year I became an adult. My mother died, and I created my company shortly thereafter. I definitely would not have done it if she hadn't passed away.

I don't mean to burst anyone's bubble, but there is no scriptural or historical basis for December 25th actually being the day that Jesus was born.

Though I had come into the world on 16 November 1922, my official documents show that I was born two days later, on the 18th. It was thanks to this petty fraud that my family escaped from paying the fine for not having registered my birth at the proper legal time.

I was born in 1949 - which seems like a long time ago... Actually, it is a long time ago, when I think about it.

You can't know what the future holds, though you might conjecture on it, and if you're psychic, you might venture a guess.

Although it is generally known, I think it's about time to announce that I was born at a very early age.

When I'm 60, maybe, I'll look at my pile of papers and wonder, What really happened that year?

The year I was born, 1956, was the peak year for babies being born, and there are more people essentially our age than anybody else. We could crush these new generations if we decided too.