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“Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.

Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave
of silver born in you.

My struggle is harsh and I come back
with eyes tired
at times from having seen
the unchanging earth,
but when your laughter enters
it rises to the sky seeking me
and it opens for me all
the doors of life.

My love, in the darkest
hour your laughter
opens, and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the stones of the street,
laugh, because your laughter
will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.

Next to the sea in the autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foamy cascade,
and in the spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower I was waiting for,
the blue flower, the rose
of my echoing country.

Laugh at the night,
at the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at this clumsy
fool who loves you,
but when I open
my eyes and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter. ”
― Pablo Neruda

“Don't hide your scars, your stretch marks,
your laugh lines, your calloused hands.
They are your life story,
telling of struggles won and lost,
challenges faced, losses overcome,
life grown and birthed and nurtured,
hard work accomplished,
stars reached for, hopes dashed, dreams realized,
rock bottoms and mountain tops.
They tell the story of your one
amazing, awful, beautiful life
written in the curves and lines of
extraordinary, miraculous, beautiful you.”
― L.R. Knost

“A life well-lived is not measured by material possessions or the size of the funeral turnout. The quantity and depth of laugh lines on the face of the person lying in repose in their coffin reveals a life's true worth.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Gran runs her fingers through my hair, smiling down at me.

I'm to weak to reach up and trace her laugh lines, but I trace them with my eyes, thinking of all the years that have gone by between Lucy and I with Gran. All of the memories held in those lines, smiles and laughs. I am touched by the way our generations pass, one to the other, our genes the same yet slightly altered, carrying with us all of those memories.”
― M. Starks, Remember Me

“A live well-lived is not judged on a post-mortem stocktake of material acquisitions. It is based on the number and depth of the laugh lines on the face of the person lying in repose in their coffin.”
― Stewart Stafford