No real friendship without absolute liberty.

In meeting again after a separation, acquaintances ask after our outward life, friends after our inner life.

He who has nothing has no friends.

I count myself in nothing else so happy / As in a soul remembering my good friends.

Friendships begin with liking or gratitude—roots that can be pulled up.

We cherish our friends not for their ability to amuse us but for ours to amuse them.

As matron and mistress will differ in temper and tone, so will the friend be distinct from the faithless parasite.

I have often said that if I wish to name-drop, I have only to list my ex-friends.

I am weary of friends, and friendships are all monsters.

Real friends offer both hard truths and soft landings.