I have no fear that the candle lighted in Palestine years ago will ever be put out.

I get uncomfortable when people give me presents and watch me open them. I don't have birthday parties because the idea of a group of people singing and looking at me while I'm blowing out candles gives me hives.

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.

Every day every birthday candle I blow out every penny I throw over my shoulder in a wishing well every time my daughter says 'Let's make a wish on a star ' there's one thing I wish for: wisdom.

You know maybe I was just born in the wrong time but I love all things romantic. Puffy understands that. For my last birthday he covered my hotel room floor with rose petals and had flowers and candles all over the room.

I wanted to buy a candle holder but the store didn't have one. So I got a cake.

You know you're getting old when the candles cost more than the cake.

You know you're getting old when you get that one candle on the cake. It's like 'See if you can blow this out.'

I remember when the candle shop burned down. Everyone stood around singing 'Happy Birthday.'

I can't live without my beauty products. I love to be in my bathroom with my candles lit morning noon and night. I like taking hot baths and hot showers using my body scrubs and lotions.