Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow

“Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit.”
Thus spoke Aristotle, the great philosopher of ancient Greece, whose wisdom has guided men for over two thousand years. These words, drawn from his timeless work Nicomachean Ethics, reveal a truth as enduring as the earth itself: that friendship, the noblest bond between human souls, cannot be forged in haste. The desire for companionship may bloom swiftly, like a spring flower, but true friendship—rooted in virtue, tested by time, and strengthened by mutual trust—is a slow ripening fruit, nourished only by patience and care.

Aristotle lived in a world where friendship, or philia, was seen as one of the highest goods in life. To him, friendship was not born merely from shared pleasure or usefulness, but from the mutual recognition of goodness in another. Such friendship was the highest form of love—not passion’s fleeting flame, but the steady fire that warms the soul through all seasons. Yet Aristotle, wise in the ways of men, understood that while the wish to be friends may come easily, the making of true friendship is long and difficult. It is like the cultivation of a tree: planting may take but a moment, but the fruit comes only after years of sunlight, rain, and storm.

The meaning of his words lies in the nature of time and trust. At first meeting, one may feel drawn to another’s charm, wit, or shared interests. Hearts are quick to hope, for the human soul hungers for connection. But the fruit of friendship is not sweetness born of impulse—it is ripened through shared trials, through the endurance of misunderstanding, through acts of loyalty that prove what words alone cannot. A friendship born too swiftly may wither as quickly, for only the slow passing of days reveals the truth of one’s character. Thus, Aristotle teaches that the speed of affection is no measure of its strength.

History offers many lessons to confirm this wisdom. Consider the friendship of Socrates and Plato, the teacher and his devoted pupil. Their bond was not a sudden blaze but a long and steady fire, kindled through years of dialogue and discovery. Plato did not call Socrates his friend at their first meeting, but through the slow unfolding of truth and virtue between them, a profound love of mind and spirit was born. When Socrates met his death, Plato did not abandon his memory, but preserved his teacher’s voice for eternity through his writings. That is the slow ripening fruit of which Aristotle speaks—the kind that endures even when life itself fades away.

This truth also finds echo in the simpler lives of ordinary men. Many friendships begin with shared laughter and vanish at the first disagreement, but the ones that survive hardship are those tended with patience. Two soldiers who have faced battle together, two women who have endured sorrow side by side, two thinkers who have challenged each other’s minds until both grew wiser—these are examples of friendship matured by experience. The sweetness of such a bond cannot be rushed, for it is seasoned by forgiveness, deepened by time, and preserved by faith.

Aristotle’s words also remind us to be humble in our expectations. We may long for connection, but friendship cannot be commanded; it must be earned. It grows only between equals, between souls who see in each other a reflection of virtue. Therefore, let no one despair if friendship comes slowly, nor call every companion a friend after a single meeting. The greatest friendships—those that bless and transform the heart—are not born of convenience, but of constancy. They must be lived into existence, moment by moment, choice by choice.

Let this, then, be the lesson: be patient in friendship, and steadfast in nurturing it. Speak truth gently, keep faith quietly, forgive often, and judge slowly. Do not demand perfection from your friend, but offer understanding; do not seek to be pleased, but to be loyal. For friendship, like fruit, ripens only when the roots are deep and the seasons have turned.

Thus, the wisdom of Aristotle endures like the olive tree that shaded the philosophers of Athens: strong, fruitful, and ancient. The wish to be a friend may come in an instant, but the making of one requires time, tenderness, and virtue. Remember, O seeker of the good life, that all things noble grow slowly—and of all the treasures of the earth, none is more precious than the slow ripening fruit of true friendship.