Nothing opens the heart like a true friend, to whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes...and whatever lies upon the heart.
There is no passion in the mind of man so weak, but it mates and masters the fear of death . . . Revenge triumphs over death; love slights it; honor aspireth to it; grief flieth to it.
Friendship redoubleth joys, and cutteth griefs in half.
Nothing is to be feared but fear itself. Nothing grievous but to yield to grief.
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