Glada, your laugh can sometimes be heard in my dreams.

One time, you even laughed in my ear that lay on the pillow.

It was a funky laugh. Not quite a horse-laugh, not quite a mouse-laugh...something in-between. Something infectious.
Something I enjoyed drawing out of you that last day we hung out.

Glada. . . the fires engulfed you, and yet your laugh rings through time and space still.

I can hear you laughing at something silly I said all those years ago, and it brings a smile to my face.

I really like his laugh. I don't know why. He laughs from his throat, and it's really deep like his voice. Occasionally he'll open his mouth and let it out, but mostly it stays in his throat.

It's kind of creepy. It sounds like the laugh of someone that's evil or something. But he's such a warm person that it doesn't really matter that his laugh is a little creepy. He would never do anything to harm anyone.

I wish I would have gotten to know him more before this year, either way though, I'm really glad he and I are friends now.

I dislike the sounds of children laughing in movies. I've been taking care of children younger than myself since I was about six years old myself. I have NEVER heard that sound before when children were laughing. I enjoy hearing a live child in front of me giggle and writhe in joy when we're playing a fun game like peek-a-boo or any broad range of other things that the wonderfully innocent enjoy so well. Strange to think that it's cute while they're small but as they get older we wish to break them of it and force them into the cruel harsh reality that is the world. Okay...wandering back from that tangent.

I especially love the way my little ones would laugh when i would baby sit them. They were always so excited about everything. You could chase their screaming, happy figures all over the house, then capture them and floof them. Then tell them a story that didn't really happen but they laugh anyway. There's something relaxing about the laughter of babes. Then they start learning things and they're no longer as fun.

My kindergarten teacher loved my laugh so much that she wanted to capture an audio recording of it before I graduated her class. She evidently didn´t imagine that I had rehearsed that laugh for the specific purpose of being cute and jovial. I did that stuff a lot. From the time I could walk to about age 4, I had been ¨shy¨. Grownups seemed to find it charming, and it gave my parents a reason to talk for me when they had flattering things to say.

But there was no way I was going to let her capture evidence of this forcedly sweet giggle. I didn´t laugh again until the school year was over.

i have been told spontaneously that my
nose
hair
eyes
voice
breasts
are beautiful. but the only one i've heard more than once is that my laugh is amazing. it's the only one i believe.

laughter makes everyone beautiful.

Try not to laugh while kissing someone with pop rocks in there mouth.

It’s genuinely a beautiful thing to be able to kiss someone and not be able to do anything but be happy and laugh

The word "laugh," in accordance with the Merriam Webster Dictionary, means "1 a : to show emotion (as mirth, joy, or scorn) with a chuckle or explosive vocal sound b : to find amusement or pleasure in something c : to become amused or derisive "

But, basically, all it is is just a way to display your amusement with a topic or something.

I laugh at jokes, and at pictures, at the dumbass things my friends say, etc.

I associate your laugh with that TV show. You know, the one they shouldn't have cancelled. It's strange to watch it now, and not hear you laugh. Some of the episodes we watched so many times, I remember when you laughed, and I hear it in my head. The way you laughed was one of my favorite things about you, a main source of fuel to the silliness I let brew in my head concerning you.
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I tickle Owen in the middle of his little pooch of a belly because the laugh this causes him to emit is tastier than expensive chocolate, more precious than a toddler trying to wink and closing both eyes instead, and at the same time enough to get me partially aroused.

I tickle him all the time.

I knew there was something foreboding about "I want to talk to you about something afterschool. When will you be at your house?"

A friend drove her to my house, then stayed in the car with the engine running while my girlfriend nervously approached my porch. The moment she got in the door, I said, "I love you very much. Please don't break up with me." I knew that, depending on what she was coming over to talk to me about, she was either about to laugh at the very thought or be awkwardly silent.

I waited for a long time to hear the laugh I was hoping for.

I would have avoided a lot of prolonged suffering if I had known then that I was never going to hear that girl laugh again.