A friend is one who incessantly pays us the compliment of expecting from us all the virtues, and who can appreciate them in us.
The friend asks no return but that his friend will religiously accept and wear and not disgrace his apotheosis of him. They cherish each other's hopes. They are kind to each other's dreams.
That kindness which has so good a reputation elsewhere can least of all consist with this relation, and no such affront can be offered to a friend, as a conscious good-will, a friendliness which is not a necessity of the friend's nature.
Friendship is never established as an understood relation. It is a miracle which requires constant proofs. It is an exercise of the purest imagination and of the rarest faith.
We do not wish for friends to feed and clothe our bodies -- neighbors are kind enough for that -- but to do the life office to our spirit. For this, few are rich enough, however well disposed they may be ....
The language of friendship is not words, but meanings. It is an intelligence above language.
