"They seem to take away the sun from the world who withdraw friendship
from life; for we have received nothing better from the Immortal Gods,
nothing more delightful."--CICERO.


Most of those who have written in praise of books have thought they could
say nothing more conclusive than to compare them to friends.

"All men," said Socrates, "have their different objects of
ambition--horses, dogs, money, honor, as the case may be; but for his own
part he would rather have a good friend than all these put together." And
again, men know "the number of their other possessions, although they
might be very numerous, but of their friends, though but few, they were
not only ignorant of the number, but even when they attempted to reckon it
to such as asked them, they set aside again some that they had previously
counted among their friends; so little did they allow their friends to
occupy their thoughts. Yet in comparison with what possession, of all
others, would not a good friend appear far more valuable?"

"As to the value of other things," says Cicero, "most men differ;
concerning friendship all have the same opinion. What can be more foolish
than, when men are possessed of great influence by their wealth, power,
and resources, to procure other things which are bought by money--horses,
slaves, rich apparel, costly vases--and not to procure friends, the most
valuable and fairest furniture of life?" And yet, he continues, "every man
can tell how many goats or sheep he possesses, but not how many friends."
In the choice, moreover, of a dog or of a horse, we exercise the greatest
care: we inquire into its pedigree, its training and character, and yet we
too often leave the selection of our friends, which is of infinitely