Peevish

The Dean was sorry for his disappointment but the peevishness added to his joy, for a man is only peevish to his friends.

-Elizabeth Goudge, The Dean's Watch, 177.

In Memoriam

The fear of forgetting anything precious can trigger in us the wish to raise a structure, like a paperweight to hold down our memories. We might even follow the example of the Countess of Mount Edgcumbe, who in the late eighteenth century had a thirty-foot-high Neoclassical obelisk erected on a hill on the outskirts of Plymouth, in memory of an unusually sensitive pig called Cupid, whom she did not hesitate to call a true friend.

-Alain de Botton, The Architecture of Happiness, 123-124.

Fear

If I'm afraid of someone on the street, I'll turn to him (it's always a boy) and say, "Excuse me, do you happen to know what time it is?" This is my way of saying to the person, "I see you as a friend, and there is no need to hurt me or take my stuff. Also, I don't even have a watch and I am probably not worth mugging."

So far, it's worked like gangbusters, as Richard would say. And I've discovered that most people I'm afraid of are actually very friendly.

-Rebecca Stead, When You Reach Me, 25-26.

Life Together

The physical presence of other Christians is a source of incomparable joy and strength to the believer.

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together, 19.

The Secret Master of Ceremonies

...A few more years' difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one university instead of another, posting to different regiments, the accident of a topic being raise or not raise at a first meeting—any of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking, no chances. A secret Master of the Ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples, “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,” can truly say to every group of Christian friends “You have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another.” The Friendship is not a reward for our discrimination and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each the beauties of all the others. They are no greater than the beauties of a thousand other men; by Friendship God opens our eyes to them. They are, like all beauties, derived from Him, and then, in a good Friendship, increased by Him through the Friendship itself, so that it is His instrument for creating as well as for revealing. At this feast it is He who has spread the board and it is He who has chosen the guests. It is He, we may dare to hope, who sometimes does, and always should, preside. Let us not reckon without our Host.

-C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves, 89-90.

Christ the Companion

WHEN I've thrown my books aside, being petulant and weary,
And have turned down the gas, and the firelight has sufficed,
When my brain's too stiff for prayer, and too indolent for theory,
Will You come and play with me, big Brother Christ?

Will You slip behind the book-case? Will you stir the window-curtain,
Peeping from the shadow with Your eyes like flame?
Set me staring at the alcove where the flicker's so uncertain,
Then suddenly, at my elbow, leap up, catch me, call my name?

Or take the great arm-chair, help me set the chestnuts roasting,
And tell me quiet stories, while the brown skins pop,
Of wayfarers and merchantmen and tramp of Roman hosting,
And how Joseph dwelt with Mary in the carpenter's shop?

When I drift away in dozing, will You softly light the candles
And touch the piano with Your kind, strong fingers,
Set stern fugues of Bach and stately themes of Handel's
Stalking through the corners where the last disquiet lingers?

And when we say good-night, and You kiss me on the landing,
Will You promise faithfully and make a solemn tryst:
You'll be just at hand if wanted, close by here where we are standing,
And be down in time for breakfast, big Brother Christ?

-Dorothy Sayers

My Tiger, My Heart

My tiger, my heart
We're growing apart
We're trying to be friends
But it's hard sometimes
To be friends with something
That eats butterflies
And pencil sharpeners
And I think it would be
Happier being free

-The Boy Least Likely To

Oo-de-lally

Robin Hood and Little John
Walkin' through the forest
Laughin' back and forth
At what the other'ne has to say
Reminiscin', This-'n'-thattin'
Havin' such a good time
Oo-de-lally, Oo-de-lally
Golly, what a day

Never ever thinkin' there was danger in the water
They were drinkin', they just guzzled it down
Never dreamin' that a schemin' sherrif and his posse
Was a-watchin' them an' gatherin' around

Robin Hood and Little John
Runnin' through the forest
Jumpin' fences, dodgin' trees
An' tryin' to get away
Contemplatin' nothin'
But escape an' fin'lly makin' it
Oo-de-lally, Oo-de-lally
Golly, what a day
Oo-de-lally, Oo-de-lally
Golly, what a day

-Roger Miller

Old Friends

Old friends,
Old friends
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends.
A newspaper blown though the grass
Falls on the round toes
Of the high shoes
Of the old friends.

Old friends,
Winter companions,
The old men
Lost in their overcoats,
Waiting for the sunset.
The sounds of the city,
Sifting through trees,
Settle like dust
On the shoulders
Of the old friends.

Can you imagine us
Years from today,
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange
To be seventy.
Old friends,
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fears

-Paul Simon

Fortune Cookie

Today, be civil, but don't go out of your way to be over friendly.

-Fortune cookie, courtesy of Sun Sun

Man's Best Friend

Every boy should have a chicken.

-Daniel Pinkwater, The Hoboken Chicken Emergency

Eeyore Finds the Wolery

So, in a little while, they came to the house which Eeyore had found, and for some minutes before they came to it, Piglet was nudging Pooh, and Pooh was nudging Piglet, and they were saying, “It is!” and “It can't be!” and “It is, really!” to each other.
And when they got there, it really was.
“There!” said Eeyore proudly, stopping them outside Piglet's house. “And the name on it, and everything!”
“Oh!” cried Christopher Robin, wondering whether to laugh or what.
“Just the house for Owl. Don't you think so, little Piglet?”
And then Piglet did a Noble Thing, and he did it in a sort of dream, while he was thinking of all the wonderful words Pooh had hummed about him.
“Yes, it's just the house for Owl,” he said grandly. “And I hope he'll be very happy in it.” And then he gulped twice, because he had been very happy in it himself.
“What do you think, Christopher Robin?” asked Eeyore a little anxiously, feeling that something wasn't quite right.
Christopher Robin had a question to ask first, and he was wondering how to ask it.
“Well,” he said at last, “it's a very nice house, and if your own house is blown down, you must go somewhere else, mustn't you Piglet? What would you do, if your house was blown down?”
Before Piglet could think, Pooh answered for him.
“He'd come and live with me,” said Pooh, “wouldn't you, Piglet?”
Piglet squeezed his paw.
“Thank you, Pooh,” he said, “I should love to.”

-A. A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner

Two's Company...

Lamb says somewhere that if, of three friends (A, B, and C), A should die, then B loses not only A but "A's part in C," while C loses not only A but "A's part in B." In each of my friends there is something that only some other friend can fully bring out. By myself I am not large enough to call the whole man into activity; I want other lights than my own to show all his faces. Now that Charles is dead, I shall never again see Ronald's reaction to a specifically Caroline joke. Far from having more of Ronald, having him "to myself" now that Charles is away, I have less of Ronald. Hence true Friendship is the least jealous of loves. Two friends delight to be joined by a third, and three by a fourth...

-C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves

What Susan Said

Two lonely-eyed boys in a pick-up truck
And they're drivin' through the rain and the heat
And their skin's so sweaty they both get stuck
To the old black vinyl seats
And it's Abbott and Costello meet Paul and Silas
It's the two of us together and we're puttin' on the mileage

And we both feel lost
But I remember what Susan said
How love is found in the things we've given up
More than in the things that we have kept
And ain't it funny what people say
And ain't it funny what people write
And ain't it funny how it hits you so hard
In the middle of the night
And if your home is just another place where you're a stranger
And far away is just somewhere you've never been
I hope that you'll remember, I was your friend

Two full grown men in a huddle of kids
And they're trying to help them to believe
What is too good to be real
But is more real than the air they breathe
And it's Wally and the Beaver, David and Jonathan
It's the Love of Jesus puttin' on flesh and bone

(Repeat chorus)

-Rich Mullins

My Friends

My friends ain't the way I wish they were, they are just the way they are.

-Rich Mullins, "Brother's Keeper"

Old Friends Who've Just Met

There's not a word yet
For old friends who've just met
Part heaven, part space
Or have I found my place?
You can just visit
But I plan to stay
I'm going to go back there someday

-Gonzo, The Muppet Movie, "I'm Going to Go Back There Someday"

Hello Old Friends

Hello old friends,
There's really nothing new to say,
But the old, old story bears repeating,
And the plain old truth grows dearer every day.
When you find something worth believing
Well that's a joy that nothin' could take away.

And so we meet again,
After all these many years.
Did we sow the seeds we're reaping
Now that the harvest calls us here?
It seems that love blooms out of season
And much joy can blossom from many tears.

So old friends,
You must forget what you had to forgive,
And let love be stronger than the feelings
That rage and run beneath the bridge.
Knowin' morning follows evening
Makes each new day come as a gift.

-Rich Mullins

Fidelity

It was at that moment that King Pellinore reappeared. Even before he came into view they could hear him crashing in the undergrowth and calling out, “I say, I say! Come here at once! A most dreadful thing has happened!” He appeared dramatically upon the edge of the clearing, just as a disturbed branch, whose burden was too heavy, emptied a couple of hundredweight of snow upon his head. King Pellinore paid no attention. He climbed out of the snow heap as if he had not noticed it, still calling out “I say! I say!”

“What is it, Pellinore?” shouted Sir Ector.

“Oh, come quick,” cried the King and, turning round distracted, he vanished again into the forest.

“Is he all right,” inquired Sir Ector, “do you suppose?”

“Excitable character,” said Sir Grummore. “Very.”

“Better follow up and see what he’s doin’.”

The procession moved off sedately in King Pellinore’s direction, following his erratic course by the fresh tracks in the snow.

The spectacle which they came across was one for which they were not prepared. In the middle of a dead gorse bush King Pellinore was sitting, with the tears streaming down his face. In his lap there was an enormous snake’s head, which he was patting. At the other end of the snake’s head there was a long, lean, yellow body with spots on it. At the end of the body there were some lion’s legs which ended in the slots of a hart.

“There, there,” King Pellinore was saying. “I didn’t mean to leave you altogether. It was only because I wanted to sleep in a feather bed, just for a bit. I was coming back, honestly I was. Oh, please don’t die, Beast, and leave me without any fewmets.”

-T. H. White, The Sword in the Stone