I love a good laugh as well, I think that's so important in life

The words of Paul Kane shine with warmth, even as they emerge from a writer who has walked through the darker corridors of the imagination: “I love a good laugh as well, I think that’s so important in life, which is probably why I’ve dabbled in comedy writing as well as horror. I think if you can make someone laugh or smile it’s the most special thing in the world.” Here is a truth both simple and profound—that amid the terrors and struggles of existence, the gift of laughter is no small blessing, but a healing balm, a reminder that joy is as sacred as sorrow.

To laugh is to release the soul from heaviness, to remind ourselves that even in the valley of shadows, light can break through. Kane, who has often written of fear and darkness, understands that horror and comedy are not opposites but siblings. Both deal with tension, both provoke strong reactions, both awaken something deep within us. The shriek and the laugh often stand side by side, and in both, the human heart recognizes the fragile, fleeting nature of life. Thus his words are not a contradiction, but a celebration of the wholeness of experience.

The ancients themselves honored laughter. Among the Greeks, Aristophanes wrote comedies that mocked the follies of men and rulers, teaching truth through humor just as tragedies taught it through suffering. In the courts of kings, jesters were given a sacred role: to pierce the pomp of power with laughter, to remind rulers that they, too, were mortal. Even in the darkest times of war, soldiers would gather around fires and tell jokes, for they knew that without smiles, the weight of despair would crush them. Kane’s reflection is heir to this tradition: that laughter is not frivolous, but necessary for the endurance of the soul.

History offers a shining example in the life of Winston Churchill. Known for his iron will during the Second World War, Churchill also wielded humor like a sword. His witty remarks, often delivered in the bleakest hours, gave strength to his people. When bombs fell over London, he quipped that the Germans would “soon tire of trying to kill us in our beds.” The laughter that followed was not denial of danger, but defiance of despair. It was a way of saying: we are still alive, and while we live, we will smile.

Paul Kane’s words remind us that to make another person laugh is to share something sacred. A joke, a playful word, or a warm smile can draw two souls together in fellowship, dissolving fear, bridging divisions, and reminding both of their shared humanity. It is an act of generosity, for in giving laughter you give a piece of your own light. In a world where sorrow is plentiful, those who bring joy are healers, though they may wear no title of doctor or priest.

The lesson for us is clear: do not despise laughter, nor think it unworthy beside serious matters. To smile at another is to affirm their worth; to make them laugh is to lift them, if only for a moment, above the burdens of existence. Whether through words, through stories, or through small acts of kindness, seek to awaken joy in those around you. This is not weakness, but strength, for to create happiness in another is to wield a power greater than fear.

Therefore, let us take this wisdom into our daily walk. If you have the gift of humor, use it well, not to wound, but to heal. If you meet another weighed down by darkness, offer them not only sympathy but a reason to smile. And if your own path leads through shadows, remember that even in horror, there is room for light. For in laughter, the heart finds rest; in smiles, the soul finds hope.

Thus Paul Kane’s reflection becomes a teaching for the ages: that life is not meant to be endured in solemnity alone, but in balance—between fear and joy, shadow and light, horror and comedy. To make another laugh is no small act; it is, in truth, “the most special thing in the world.” And if we live so that others can smile because of us, then we have lived with greatness in our hearts.