Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any

Mark Twain, that sharp-tongued prophet of wit and human folly, once declared: “Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.” These words are as a thunderclap wrapped in laughter, a jest that masks a wound, a satire that hides a serious cry. Twain, ever the defender of common sense, looked upon the labyrinth of human-made rules and found them tangled beyond reason. By invoking even the Almighty in his jest, he showed the magnitude of his frustration: if even God Himself cannot make sense of such laws, what hope remains for mortals?

The meaning of this quote is both humorous and tragic. Twain is not mocking the idea of ownership, nor the need to protect creators. Instead, he unveils the absurdity of systems so convoluted that they betray the very purpose for which they were made. right laws, in his eyes, were less instruments of justice and more snares of confusion—burdens that hindered rather than protected, and obstacles that robbed the creator rather than rewarding him. His hyperbole points to a truth: when laws stray too far from clarity and fairness, they become mockeries of themselves.

The origin of this saying lies in Twain’s own long struggle with copyright and publishing. He lived in an age when America had no true copyright treaties with other nations. His books were pirated freely abroad, often printed without his consent, and he lost fortunes while others grew rich from his genius. Twain, who gave so much to the world in laughter and wisdom, felt the sting of systems that failed to protect the very men and women they were designed to safeguard. Out of this personal battle rose his bitter jest, a complaint cast in the form of divine irony.

History offers us testimony to his truth. Consider the long wars of Charles Dickens, who likewise found his works pirated across America. Dickens, adored by millions, received little reward from readers overseas who devoured his novels while publishers, shielded by the absence of treaties, reaped the profits. Both Dickens and Twain stood as giants of literature, yet both suffered under broken systems of copyright law that robbed them of their just share. Thus, Twain’s wry remark is not merely humor, but the lament of generations of authors who saw their labor dishonored.

There is something deeply emotional in Twain’s exaggeration. By calling upon God, he highlights the depth of human folly—that we have crafted laws so nonsensical that even divine omniscience could not unravel them. His humor is also a shield, for beneath it lies frustration, perhaps even despair. In his laughter, we hear a cry for reform: that laws should serve the people, not confound them; that the creator should be honored, not cheated by labyrinthine rules.

To future generations, Twain’s teaching is a warning: beware when systems grow so complex that they no longer serve their purpose. For what use is a law if it cannot be understood by those it governs? What value is a rule that fails to protect the very people it claims to defend? Twain’s satire is a call for simplicity, clarity, and fairness in all human endeavors, whether in law, governance, or daily life.

The lesson is plain: strive for justice that can be grasped by common sense. In your own life, let your agreements, your rules, your words be clear and honest. Do not weave webs of complexity that entangle truth. Support fairness in systems around you—be it in the marketplace, in art, or in community life. Practically, this may mean advocating for laws that are transparent, ensuring that creators are justly rewarded, and questioning any rule that hides injustice behind complexity.

Thus Twain leaves us his immortal jest: “Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.” Do not dismiss it as mere humor, for within its laughter lies a plea. Let us build laws—and lives—that honor clarity, truth, and fairness, so that even the simplest soul may say: “This makes sense, and this is just.” For in such simplicity lies true wisdom, and in such justice lies the dignity of mankind.