"When I have had frank intercourse for a considerable time with a man, and then sum up his characteristics in my recollection, I get a fair idea of him, but never quite a correct one. Men have a right to hide their secrets. When I was young and unintelligent, I believed that, as an author, I had a right to investigate the past of others; but I soon discovered that it is not allowed. They seemed to be guarded. "He who says one ought to be so on guard in one's intercourse with a friend, as though he might some day become an enemy, has had little pleasure in friendship. I have always behaved to men as though they were going to be my friends for life, and therefore I have received something in return. When they have disappointed me, I have said to myself. 'What matters it? Nothing for nothing!'" =Friend Zero.=--The teacher continued: "There are people who seem friendly, harmless, considerate; they leave others in peace, never pry into their affairs, never say evil behind people's backs, nor allow evil to be said. I have admired and envied them for their good natural qualities. But among such persons I have found some who keep remote from unpleasantnesses out of pure selfishness, and who out of love for ease and comfort wish to know nothing of other people's affairs in order not to be drawn into them. These are those who will not give evidence in court, even for the sake of defending a friend. They are silent when they ought to speak. They avoid recommending a relative on the plea that 'they do not know him.' When their names are mentioned as authorities for such and such a report, they have 'lost their memories.' They will not lend money to anyone who needs it, because 'they do not wish to have a disagreement with him.' They have no positive virtues, and no positive faults. Consequently they are colourless, unreliable, characterless, formless; they can not be classified under any system. "I once knew one of these for ten years; then I forgot him. Twenty years later I found some of my old letters in an attic; among them were hundreds of letters from my formless friend. I was astonished to find that I had had such a lengthy correspondence with him. And I looked to see what he had had to say. I read five-and-twenty letters. They contained nothing. I read fifty; the result was the same--nothing. They consisted solely of handwriting, ink, paper, envelopes, and postage-stamps. I burnt them and forgot Friend Zero henceforth. He did not even leave a memory behind him."