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I hate birthdays.

I hate celebrating birthdays.

I hate birthdays. I hate birthday parties. I hate them. I don't know what it is, anybody's only got to come wafting near me with a piece of cake with a candle on and I break out in hives.

I don't like my birthday. I don't like things that are directed towards me. It took me a long time to get over people asking me to write my name in the book.

The worst part about celebrating another birthday is the shock that you're only as well as you are.

I like to go to anybody else's birthday, and if I'm invited I'm a good guest. But I never celebrate my birthdays. I really don't care.

I've never really made a big deal out of my birthday.

I don't have birthdays.

I don't want to be dragging myself on stage, year in year out, until someone else tells me it is time to go. There are certain birthdays that make you revalue your life.

I don't pay attention to the number of birthdays. It's weird when I say I'm 53. It just is crazy that I'm 53. I think I'm very immature. I feel like a kid. That's why my back goes out all the time, because I completely forget I can't do certain things anymore - like doing the plank for 10 minutes.