Sentiment Happy Birthday Quotes

The cake had a trick candle that wouldn't go out, so I didn't get my wish. Which was just that it would always be like this, that my life could be a party just for me.

My own kind. I'm not sure there's a name for us. I suspect we're born this way: our hearts screwed in tight, already a little broken. We hate sentimentality and yet we're deeply sentimental. Low-grade Romantics. Tough but susceptible. Afflicted by parking lots, empty courtyards, nostalgic pop music. When we cried for no reason as babies, just hauled off and wailed, our parents seemed to know, instinctively, that it wasn't diaper rash or colic. It was something deeper that they couldn't find a comfort for, though the good ones tried mightily, shaking rattles like maniacs and singing, "Happy Birthday" a little louder than called for. We weren't morose little kids. We could be really happy.

Except me. I turned back to the cliff and stared down into the woods where Joshua Hallal had vanished. And Erica. She stood beside me, staring into the void as well. “I owe you my life, Ripley,” she said. “No,” I said. “You owe your father.” “Who would never have found us if it wasn’t for you. And he certainly wouldn’t have figured out how to stop those missiles, either.” Erica turned to me. “In fact, I’m not sure I could have stopped them. How’d you do it?” I thought about using the Alexander Hale method again, concocting a tale that would make me sound brave and smart and cool under pressure. Instead, I used the Benjamin Ripley method and told the truth. “I just unplugged the system.” Erica stared at me for a moment. And then she laughed. I’d never heard her do this before. It was surprisingly childlike, a sweet little titter that revealed the girl beneath her tough exterior. “Ripley,” she said. “You’re one of a kind.” At that moment, I didn’t care if the president or anyone else ever found out that I’d thwarted SPYDER’s plans. I didn’t care if Alexander Hale stole the credit from me again. Erica Hale knew what I’d done, and that was all that mattered. Her laughter was the greatest reward I could have ever asked for. “By the way,” Erica said, “happy birthday.” I glanced at my watch, startled to see it was well after midnight. With all the excitement, I’d actually lost track of what time it was. I wasn’t sure which was more startling to me: the fact that I’d forgotten it was my own birthday—or that Erica had remembered. “Thanks,” I said. “I didn’t exactly have time to shop, given the kidnapping and all, so I got you this.” Erica pressed something into my hand. To my surprise, it was a human tooth. There was a tiny bit of blood at the end, as though it had just been forcibly removed from someone’s mouth. “Is this Murray’s?” I asked. Erica smiled. “I told him that if SPYDER ever messes with you again, he’s gonna lose a lot more than that.” It was certainly the most disgusting present I’d ever received. And yet, I couldn’t help being touched by the sentiment behind it. “Thanks,” I said. “Could you give me a little help getting back?” Erica asked. “Of course,” I told her. Then I wrapped my arm around her waist to take her weight, and we started through the woods together.