I had already found that it was not good to be alone, and so made companionship with what there was around me, sometimes with the universe and sometimes with my own insignificant self; but my books were always my friends, let fail all else.
Animals are my friends...and I don't eat my friends.
People come, people go – they’ll drift in and out of your life, almost like characters in a favorite book. When you finally close the cover, the characters have told their story and you start up again with another book, complete with new characters and adventures. Then you find yourself focusing on the new ones, not the ones from the past.
It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill.
When I say it's you I like, I'm talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch. That deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive. Love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed.
Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart
I am awfully greedy; I want everything from life. I want to be a woman and to be a man, to have many friends and to have loneliness, to work much and write good books, to travel and enjoy myself, to be selfish and to be unselfish… You see, it is difficult to get all which I want. And then when I do not succeed I get mad with anger.
A decent boldness ever meets with friends.
My friends are my estate.
Without friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.
Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.
Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends.
Wear a smile and have friends; wear a scowl and have wrinkles.
We cherish our friends not for their ability to amuse us, but for ours to amuse them.
We secure our friends not by accepting favors but by doing them.
Two persons cannot long be friends if they cannot forgive each other's little failings.
The truth that is suppressed by friends is the readiest weapon of the enemy.
The more we love our friends, the less we flatter them; it is by excusing nothing that pure love shows itself.
Many a person has held close, throughout their entire lives, two friends that always remained strange to one another, because one of them attracted by virtue of similarity, the other by difference.
It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.