I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you.
I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me.
I love you for the part of me that you bring out.
I love you for putting your hand into my heaped up heart and for passing overall of the foolish things you can't help dimly seeing there, and for drawing out into the lightall of the beautiful belongings that no one else has looked quite far enough to find.
I love you because you have done more than any creed could have done to make me good.
You have done it without a touch, without a word, without a sign.
You have done it by being yourself.
Perhaps that is what being a best friend means, after all.