Friendship

When he's in his cups, W. talks passionately about friendship. It's all about friendship!, says W. But what has it become, friendship, with us? It's soured. Curdled. Nothing has been made, nothing produced by way of our friendship. The opposite, in fact.

Why is it that we only take from the world, but give nothing to it?, W. says. Why are we so incapable of any real intellectual act? Friends should push each other to become greater than they are, but we've only made each other less than we might be.