"<p>No human relationship is more poignant and deeper than friendship. In the relationship between lovers, yes, even between parents and children, how much selfishness and vanity! Only a friend is not selfish; otherwise, he is not a friend. Only a friend is not vain, because he wants all that is good and beautiful for his friend, not for himself. The lover always wants something; the friend wants nothing for himself. A child always wants to receive from his parents, to outshine his father; a friend neither wants to receive nor to outdo. There is no more secret and noble gift in life than friendship, which is unassuming, understanding, patient, and sacrificial. And there is none rarer.</p> <p>Montaigne, reflecting on the feeling that had drawn him to La Boétie, said, "We were friends... Because he was he, and because I was I." This is more than accurate. And Seneca writes to Lucilius: "A friend loves, but a lover is not always a friend." This statement is more than accuracy: it is truth. All love is suspect because selfishness and miserliness lurk in its ashes. Only the affection of a friend is unselfish, without interest or the play of the senses. Friendship is a service, a strong and serious service, the greatest human test and role.</p>"