A friends is like a hand grenade—
  A salve and sword when fire meets ice,
But troublesome should be peace be made,
  (Unless one follows their advice).

Our families—like children’s clothes—
  Were forced upon us as we grew.
But chosen friends, whom one now loathes...
  Well who is there to blame, but you?

A friend made as the times grow worse
  May stand beside you til the end.
Yet should good fortune swell your purse—
  You stretch the love of any friend.