*
There is not anything more bitter than to lose a
fancied friend.
*
The habitual liar may be a very honest fellow, and live
truly with his wife and friends; while another man who
never told a formal falsehood in his life may yet be
himself one lie-heart and face, from top to bottom. This
is the kind of lie which poisons intimacy. And, vice
versa, veracity to sentiment, truth in a relation, truth to
your own heart and your friends, never to feign or falsify
emotion -that is the truth which makes love possible and
mankind happy.
*
But surely it is no very extravagant opinion that it is
better to give than to receive, to serve than to use our
companions; and, above all, where there is no question of
service upon either side, that it is good to enjoy their
company like a natural man.
*
A man who has a few friends, or one who has a dozen (if
there be any one so wealthy on this earth), cannot forget
on how precarious a base his happiness reposes; and how by
a stroke or two of fate--a death, a few light words, a
piece of stamped paper, or a woman's bright eyes--he may be
left in a month destitute of all.
*
In these near intimacies, we are ninety-nine times
disappointed in our beggarly selves for once that we are
disappointed in our friend; that it is we who seem most
frequently undeserving of the love that unites us; and that
it is by our friend's conduct that we are continually
rebuked and yet strengthened for a fresh endeavour.
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