“Nothing shall I, while sane, compare with a friend.” — Homer

To have a great man for an intimate friend seems pleasant to those who have never tried it; those who have, fear it.

Two urns on Jove's high throne have ever stood, the source of evil one, and one of good; from thence the cup of mortal man he fills, blessings to these, to those distributes ills; to most he mingles both.

Two friends, two bodies with one soul inspired.

True friends appear less moved than counterfeit.