We shall never have friends, if we expect to find them without fault

A woman, a dog and a walnut tree, the more you beat them, the better they be

There is a scarcity of friendship, but not of friends

He's my friend that speaks well of me behind my back

'Twas sung, how they were lovely in their lives, And in their deaths had not divided been.

The best of friends fall out, and so his teeth had done some years ago