(When)When you call me nugget.When you take pictures of me.When you dance.When you complement me.When you laugh.When your eyes squint as you smile.When we make love when we're sick.I fall more in love with you.

The door slams in response, and I laugh. I'm glad she can laugh. It means she really is coping. I know she’s internalizing a lot, though. Putting on a show for me. She’ll have new scars on her wrists soon.

I was crying on the inside, but on the outside, to the casual observer, and to the man who was dying, I was laughing. That man was my father, and I haven’t laughed that hard since his funeral. Ah, but that’s life, no?

It isn't the big troubles in life that require character. Anybody can rise to a crisis and face a crushing tragedy with courage, but to meet the petty hazards of the day with a laugh—I really think that requires spirit!

We can't know if we laugh at ourselves for being silly or to forget that we're not and that we are still here only by a sufferance that can be no more predicted than appeased. Like most things, probably a little of both.

Not until we are faced with a crisis or sadness do we begin to remember that if we only laughed a bit more, loved a lot more, and felt the simplicity of loving ourselves-just a little more…this day would be the greatest day ever!

A very unwise man once said, “He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words.” A very annoyed woman once said, “He who does not want to communicate will never enjoy their silence for very long.

Ik wilde haar weer horen lachen. Sterker nog: ik wilde de lach uit haar tevoorschijn toveren, ik wilde de reden zijn waarom die melodie gespeeld werd, want het was de klank van geluk, van tevredenheid, van alles wat goed en mooi was in de wereld.

I expect nothing of man, and disown the race. The only folly is expecting what is never attained; man is most contemptible when compared with his own pretensions. It is better to laugh at man from outside the universe, than to weep for him within.

Ik wilde haar weer horen lachen. Sterker nog: ik wilde de lach uit haar tevoorschijn toveren, ik wilde de reden zijn waarom die melodie gespeeld werd, want het was de klank van geluk, van tevredenheid, van alles wat goed en mooi was in de wereld.

And I never started to plow in my lifeThat some one did not stop in the roadAnd take me away to a dance or picnic. I ended up with forty acres; I ended up with a broken fiddle—And a broken laugh, and a thousand memories,And not a single regret.

Over the years, I learned to smile or laugh when I was supposed to. I kept my true self hidden; I did not need to unleash my pain on the world around me. Instead, I taught myself to ignore it. I did not realize that the pain was eating away at my soul.

I had a dream about you. We drank coffee with straws and laughed. We ate soup with straws and laughed. Then I nasally and noisily inhaled your giggles with a straw, like cocaine, and I laughed, but you didn’t, because I’d just snorted your joy.

A woman being able to make a man genuinely laugh leaves a much better impression on him than a woman who wants them to feel like she is nothing more than a sex object… believe me, they tend to not be as picky as you might think when it comes to that.

LAST YEAR, Honesty and I still talked, Laughed, Planned weekend activities together. Last year, I used to have friends, Speak, Live. Last year, Honesty lived, Loved, Laughed. But now— Now I live with the knowledge that Some things Kill others