When friends grow cold, and the converse of intimates languishes into vapid civility and commonplace, books only continue the unaltered countenance of happier days, and cheer us with that true friendship which never deceived hope nor deserted sorrow.

People change towards you and books do not. A friendship can cool into politeness without either person deciding it, and the loss is hard to name because nothing visible happened. What you had read and loved is still exactly there, in the same words, saying what it said years ago. That constancy is a real comfort and not a substitute for company.

When a friendship goes quiet, go back to something you loved reading and let it hold the ground for a while. Then, if the friendship is worth it, be the one who makes the ordinary call rather than waiting for warmth to return by itself.