That’s who you really like. The people you can think out loud in front of.

At the end of the day, there are very few people around you who truly want to see you peaceful, happy and content. Most of your friends only want to see you happy, peaceful and content, in ratio to their own happiness, peace and contentment. It's like, "Yeah, I want all your dreams to come true and I want to see you smile, but only for as much as I smile and only in proportion to how many of my own dreams come true." That's what people today call, "friendship" and "care". It's not really friendship and it's not really care. Then there's like one or two people who would celebrate your own happiness and success even if it's out of proportion to their own. And that's a real blessing right there, that's a real friendship.

Even though everybody hates you, you'll always have a friend who protects you and wishes to uplift you from pain, misery and suffering and that will always turn and remain the hardest blow to those who hate you.

I need you to just trust me for now without knowing all the answers.

You have to be a friend to have them.

A true friend is someone you can count on no matter what.

Friends will always be there for the party. REAL friends will be there after the party...

Being in love with your best friend is problematic.

As much as I cared about him, I wasn’t a slave to fate. I could choose to ignore my feelings, strong as they were. It would be painful, but no more so than letting myself pine for my friend.

You shouldn’t have to pretend to be as excited as I am just to make me happy. If it comes to that, you shouldn’t have to pretend to be anything around me. Friends should be real with each other

I got through it, and I wore it like a badge of honor—I Can Be Alone and it's Okay.

I Can Be Alone and it's Okay.

I know he’s a realist, he’s okay with being alone, and he helps people when he thinks no one is watching.

I suppose that means you don’t want any band-aids, either,” I said, a touch more bitterly than I’d meant to.

When the moment shifts, and you realize you don't actually want to be alone, that underneath the bravado is an ache that won’t quite fade away, you’re not only aware of how lonely you are, but how much you've been lying to yourself.

I had always thought that I was fine with being alone. Halfway through high school, I moved from Brazil to America, and it took me forever to make friends. I had culture shock of virtually every kind, besides which I was awkward, geeky, and shy. So I ate alone, telling myself that it was fine while I watched other people have normal conversations with their friends.

Well, if you can accept that I’m a great big geeky fangirl, then I guess I can accept that you’re a skeptic and a realist.

It was nice. Even in high school, I’d mostly had makeshift friends forged by the shared status of outcast. It was rare for me to discuss things so easily to someone outside of my family, but somehow Jill got me.

I bundled in my own blanket and reflected on the strange and somewhat unexpected friendship that was slowly developing between Davin and myself. It was clear to me that he needed a friend, but for reasons unknown to me, thought that it was better for him to be alone.

I found myself, lost inside the depths of my darkest days amazed to find the most of you watching me hoping i’d stay.