Friends: not one. Just a few acquaintances who imagine they feel something for me and who might be sorry if a train ran over me and the funeral was on a rainy day.
Interpretation
The quote expresses skepticism about the depth of friendship, suggesting that acquaintances may only feel a superficial concern.
Fernando Pessoa reflects on the nature of friendship, implying that what we often call friends are, in reality, merely acquaintances who may feel a fleeting sense of pity rather than genuine care. He questions the authenticity of these relationships, suggesting that true friends are rare, and that many people only express concern in response to dramatic events rather than through everyday support and connection.
In practice
In a discussion about the nature of friendships at a social gathering.
I have at this moment so many fundamental thoughts, so many truly metaphysical things to say, that I suddenly get tired and decide not to write any more, not to think any more, but to allow the fever of speaking to make me sleepy, and with my eyes closed, like a cat, I play with everything I could have said.
It's been months since I last wrote. I've lived in a state of mental slumber, leading the life of someone else. I've felt, very often, a vicarious happiness. I haven't existed. I've been someone else. I've lived without thinking.
We all have two lives: The true, the one we dreamed of in childhood And go on dreaming of as adults in a substratum of mist; the false, the one we love when we live with others, the practical, the useful, the one we end up by being put in a coffin.
I'm a man for whom the outside world is an inner Reality.
My dreams are a stupid refuge, like an umbrella against a thunderbolt.
The chill of what I won't feel gnaws at my present heart.
He is a friend indeed who proves himself a friend in need.
The loss of a friend is like that of a limb; time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired.
Michael Jackson? He was something more (than one of my favorite entertainers), a true friend. He wasn't just a genius. Above all, he was a good person, who gave so much. He gave people values, he encouraged them to better themselves all the time. He was far deeper and more authentic than people could see. He was misunderstood too many times
Service cannot be expected from a friend in service; let him be a freeman who wishes to be my master.
Friendships born on the field of athletic strife are the real gold of competition. Awards become corroded, friends gather no dust.
I don't want enemies. I want friends, and I want them in all shapes, sizes, and colors, and loving whoever they want to.
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