I have a lot of acquaintances, but very few true friends: you know, the sort you could ring up at two in the morning and ask them to rescue you. The ones I have are precious to me and, also, the kind of friend where you *may* miss six months, a year, five years and still, when you get together, take up the conversation from where you stopped.

Time spent with them is hygge: safe spaces, secure in the knowledge that we don’t judge each other, although we may wonder at the feats they have achieved. Good friends are more precious than silver or gold: they’re security and protection against the storms of the world.