I think in life, the sense of humor and comedy always exists.

The comedian Mike Epps, whose laughter echoes from the streets to the stage, once said: “I think in life, the sense of humor and comedy always exists.” Though the words appear simple, they hold a wisdom both ancient and eternal — the truth that laughter is not something created by man, but discovered in the rhythm of existence itself. Epps, a man who rose from hardship to joy, speaks not merely of comedy as performance, but of humor as a sacred undercurrent that flows through all of life. His message is that no matter how heavy our burdens, the world still hums with a melody of laughter waiting to be heard.

To say that humor “always exists” is to recognize it as a constant — like light behind the clouds or music beneath the noise of the world. Even in sorrow, even in chaos, humor endures. It is not denial of pain, but the recognition that joy and suffering are intertwined. The ancient poets knew this truth well. Sophocles, whose tragedies shaped the heart of Greek drama, once wrote that “the gods love laughter.” For even in the darkest plays of fate, the Greeks believed that the universe held an ironic smile — that life, in all its contradictions, was too vast to be understood without humor. Epps’s words echo this timeless belief: that laughter is not frivolity but survival, not escape but enlightenment.

Consider the life of Mike Epps himself — born into struggle, molded by the streets, and tested by fame. His laughter was not born from privilege, but from pain. Like so many who rise through comedy, he found in humor a weapon and a refuge. When he says comedy “always exists,” he speaks from the experience of one who has seen life’s cruelty and still found reason to laugh. This kind of laughter is not shallow; it is the laughter of those who have stared into the abyss and discovered, to their surprise, that it grins back.

History is rich with souls who have wielded humor as both mirror and medicine. During the depths of the Second World War, Charlie Chaplin released The Great Dictator — a comedy that mocked tyranny in the face of terror. His laughter was dangerous, defiant, and divine. Through humor, he preserved human dignity against the machinery of oppression. Like Epps, Chaplin believed that humor was not the property of comfort but the companion of endurance. When the world turned to despair, these men turned to laughter — not to forget, but to remind us that life itself refuses to bow to sorrow.

Epps’s reflection also teaches that humor is not bound by circumstance; it lives in every corner of the human condition. In triumph, it becomes celebration. In failure, it becomes wisdom. The old monks of the desert, who renounced the world, were known to laugh at themselves as a way of humbling their pride. The Stoics, those philosophers of endurance, taught that laughter was a mark of freedom — proof that the soul could not be enslaved by fate. To find humor in hardship is to say, I still see beauty; I still claim joy.

The lesson in Epps’s words is therefore a sacred one: do not chase laughter as a luxury — uncover it as a truth. In every hardship, ask not “Why me?” but “Where is the comedy in this?” For when you find it, you have already conquered despair. The ability to laugh — even softly, even wearily — is proof that the spirit remains undefeated. Humor is the bridge between pain and peace, the golden thread that ties us to life itself.

So remember, my friends: comedy is not something the wise avoid, but something the wise embrace. It is not an act of mockery, but of understanding. To laugh is to say, I have survived. To make others laugh is to say, You can too. As Mike Epps reminds us, the sense of humor “always exists” — not because life is easy, but because life is eternal. And those who learn to laugh, even in their darkest hour, will find themselves standing among the strongest of all — the ones who have turned pain into light, and sorrow into song.