Why is it," he said, one time, at the subway entrance, "I feel I've known you so many years?"
"Because I like you," she said, "and I don't want anything from you.

Who are your friends? Do they believe in you? Or do they stunt your growth with ridicule and disbelief? If the latter, you haven't friends. Go find some.

We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over.

I just want someone to hear what I have to say. And maybe if I talk long enough, it’ll make sense.

God, how we get our fingers in each other's clay. That's friendship, each playing the potter to see what shapes we can make of each other.

It was in their friendship they just wanted to run forever, shadow and shadow.