A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.

Roald Dahl, master of whimsy and weaver of wonder, once proclaimed with sparkling mischief: “A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.” At first, these words may sound like the playful jest of a children’s storyteller, but they conceal a deeper wisdom, as ancient as laughter itself. For Dahl reminds us that true wisdom is not stern and joyless, but alive, light, and ready to delight in the absurd.

The meaning of this saying lies in the balance of human life. To be wise is not to live forever under the burden of seriousness. The world is filled with toil, with labor, with sorrow and struggle; if a man carries all of it upon his shoulders without pause, he will be crushed. But to allow a moment of nonsense—a joke, a game, a flight of silliness—is to lighten the load, to refresh the spirit, and to remember that life, at its heart, is not only duty, but also play. Thus the wisest men relish folly, for they know it is the companion of endurance.

The origin of Dahl’s wisdom can be traced to his own life. Scarred by war, marked by hardship, he turned to stories filled with giants, chocolate factories, and talking animals—not to escape reality, but to show that joy and imagination can heal what sorrow cannot. His characters, like Willy Wonka, reveled in the outrageous and the ridiculous, yet always revealed deeper truths about greed, kindness, and courage. Through them, Dahl proclaimed that nonsense is not the enemy of wisdom, but its servant.

History also bears witness to this truth. Consider Winston Churchill, the great orator who carried the weight of a world at war. Though he bore the gravest responsibilities, he often wielded humor as both shield and sword. His witty remarks disarmed enemies, encouraged allies, and lifted the spirits of a weary nation. His wisdom was not diminished by his love of jest; it was sharpened by it. For laughter can open hearts where logic alone cannot.

Or recall the philosophers of Greece, who between debates on truth and justice sometimes played at riddles and games. Socrates himself, famed for piercing dialogues, often teased his companions with irony and humor. The wisest men understood that a mind too rigid breaks, while one that bends with laughter endures. This is the eternal rhythm of wisdom: gravitas and levity, weight and flight, truth and nonsense, woven together.

O children of tomorrow, learn this well: do not despise the moments of play, nor believe that wisdom requires a solemn face. If you would be truly wise, learn to laugh at yourself, to take joy in the absurd, to delight in the small follies of life. For in that laughter lies humility, and in humility lies strength. Even the hardest labor is lightened when the heart remembers to smile.

Therefore, the lesson is clear: cherish your moments of nonsense. Make time for laughter with your family, for silly games with children, for joy that requires no purpose but itself. Do not let the world’s weight make your spirit heavy beyond repair. For wisdom is not only in books and duties, but also in the sparkle of laughter that heals the soul.

Thus Roald Dahl’s words shine not as a jest, but as a guiding star: “A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.” Let them remind you that to be truly wise is not to banish joy, but to embrace it, and in doing so, to live fully, bravely, and well.