What Was Just Barely not a Confessional Poem

Aristotle, from Nicomachean Ethics:

"The perfect form of friendship is that between the good, and those who resemble each other in virtue. For these friends wish each alike the other's good in respect of their goodness, and they are good in themselves; but it is those who wish the good of their friends for their friends' sake who are friends in the fullest sense, since they love each other for themselves and not accidentally. Hence the friendship of these lasts as long as they continue to be good; and virtue is a permanent quality. And each is good relatively to his friend as well as absolutely, since the good are both good absolutely and profitable to each other. And each is pleasant in both ways also, since good men are pleasant both absolutely and to each other; for everyone is pleased by his own actions, and therefore by actions that resemble his own, and the actions of all good men are the same or similar.--"

Wouldn't it be wonderful! But is there really a type of friendship that looks like this? I believe the key to this passage is exactly the last line: "...everyone is pleased by his own actions, and therefore by actions that resemble his own, and the actions of all good men are the same or similar." This is the point! Agreement, in character and action, is what we are in this for. What are we if we don't agree? What is truth without agreement? What is the improvement of society without agreement? If even our closest friendships, our dearest loves, don't point toward some kind of ultimate, invulnerable oneness of opinion and action - why have them?

A Nietzschean aphorism:

For man, to be alone in his thought is worst of all.