Quotes About Friendship

Mediocrity wants to be your friend. Be unfriendly.

I woke up one morning, and I couldn't move my arm. It was the oddest thing, the paralysis. I called up a friend and said, "I think I've had a stroke," and, in fact, that's what my doctor told me. It wasn't terrible, but it was enough to scare me. Now I think about death all the time. I have my death arm, my right arm.

The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you're uncool.

The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else while you're uncool.

They tell me I must bruise The rose's leaf, Ere I can keep and use Its fragrance brief. They tell me I must break The skylark's heart, Ere her cage song will make The silence start. They tell me love must bleed, And friendship weep, Ere in my deepest need I touch that deep. Must it be always so With precious things? Must they be bruised and go With beaten wings? Ah, yes! by crushing days, By caging nights, by scar Of thorn and stony ways, These blessings are!

We need old friends to help us grow old and new friends to help us stay young.

Friends can be said to "fall in like" with as profound a thud as romantic partners fall in love.

Genuinely social people never ceased to amaze him. Their brains seemed to generate an inexhaustible fund of things to say, naturally, with no effort, out of nothing at all.

He had finished his quest, and it had cost him everything and everyone he'd done it for. The equation balanced perfectly: all canceled out. And without his crown, or his throne, or Fillory, or even his friends, he had no idea who he was. But something had changed inside him too. He didn't understand it yet, but he felt it. Somehow, even though he'd lost everything, he felt more like a king now than he ever did when he was one. Not like a toy king. He felt real.

He and Janet talked like this all the time. The Fillorians didn't really get it, they thought High King Eliot and Queen Janet hated each other, but the truth was that in Quentin's absence Janet had become his principal confidante. Eliot supposed it was partly because they both found real romantic intimacy elusive and kind of uninteresting, so usually neither of them had a serious boyfriend, and they had to turn to each other for intelligent companionship.

She'd been in math classes with Quentin since they were ten years old, and anything he could do she could do just as well, backward and in high heels if necessary.

Because, see, any amount of intimate there would be, you know—" Chelsea wrung her hands frantically. "Squick." "I don't know," Lucy said loyally, raising the flag for the backlash to the backlash. "I mean, come on, guys. He's only what—forty?" "He's thirty," Plum said. "Sorry. It's hard to tell with the, you know, the hair. I just meant that we're not in Humbert Humbert territory here.

Wands out, Harry.

They were joined by Julia, who kept her sunglasses on and ate only marmite, straight from the jar, which if anything seemed like further proof of her declining humanity.

or maybe Eliot had decided that the tedium of solitude was ever so slightly greater than the tedium of Quentin's company.

It was still possible that five years from now, when they were more or less over their post-traumatic stress disorder, they'd all get a big kick out of getting together and talking about it.

Emily Greenstreet was one of these girls that nobody ever notices, who are only friends with other girls nobody notices. Nobody likes or dislikes them. They have weak chins, or chicken-pox scars, or their glasses are too big. I know I'm being mean. But you know, they're just sort of at the edge of everything.

They spent the rest of that afternoon together. Maybe he felt guilty for giving Quentin the cigarette, or maybe Eliot had decided that the tedium of solitude was ever so slightly greater than the tedium of Quentin's company. Maybe he just needed a straight man. He

So we made some big plans to be Sonny Boy's band and sat down to some good barbecue in a place I'd been eating in all my life in the black part of town. We ordered sandwiches, coleslaw, and some sodas. While we waited, someone asked Sonny Boy whether he'd known Robert Johnson. "Knew him?" Sonny Boy asked incredulously. "Boy, Robert Johnson died in my arms!

We live, in fact, in a world starved for solitude, silence, and private: and therefore starved for meditation and true friendship.

Forget the damned motor car and build the cities for lovers and friends.

Forget the damned motor car and build cities for lovers and friends.

Under a tyranny, most friends are a liability. One quarter of them turn "reasonable" and become your enemies, one quarter are afraid to speak, and one quarter are killed and you die with them. But the blessed final quarter keep you alive.

I used to love going out and celebrating with the lads. But we can do that in the hotel and I don't miss it. I don't feel that urge any more. Once you make the transition to not doing it then you don't miss it.