這件事讓我再一次明白，人是多么容易只從自己的角度看問(wèn)題，甚至忽略了他人也同樣是站在自己角度的事實(shí)。

不管你是多么地平靜或平和，仍舊可能遇到這樣的情形：那些你找不到理由不喜歡的人卻不知怎的變成了你的敵人。他們不顧一切地中傷和毀謗你，破壞你一直以來(lái)的努力，戳你的痛處。

與任何一個(gè)好人一樣，對(duì)于這種意想不到的敵意，你可能會(huì)拼命回想，找到可能的原因――我曾經(jīng)做了什么會(huì)讓這個(gè)人如此憤怒？我得罪別人了嗎？是不是我錯(cuò)過(guò)了一條重要的信息？你會(huì)盡可能地找到原因，并焦慮地要把事情掰正。

然而，如果你所犯下的錯(cuò)誤僅僅是做了你自己并且還想煞費(fèi)苦心地改變它，這并不容易。

總會(huì)有一些人，他們就是不喜歡你的樣子，不喜歡你說(shuō)話、微笑的方式。這些跟你的個(gè)性、是否做了錯(cuò)事或是有什么缺點(diǎn)都沒(méi)有關(guān)系。往往是你最好的特質(zhì)招來(lái)了人的厭煩。

有些人就是會(huì)對(duì)那些沒(méi)招惹他的人生氣，對(duì)那些比他好的人產(chǎn)生敵意。他們永遠(yuǎn)不會(huì)原諒你，而且還會(huì)期待著你受到懲罰。

如果下次你與這樣的人發(fā)生口角，別為此郁悶，盡可能地逃走吧，并且別忘提醒自己，你不是那個(gè)有問(wèn)題的人。

One of the best things in life is the offering of good company: ready laughter, easy camaraderie and, whenever needed, an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold.

True friendship, worth its weight in gold, is easy to define in that it’s perfectly balanced, unaffected by privilege or position; both parties contributing to the best of their ability,and no one ever taking advantage.

The desire for friendship as an insurance against loneliness and isolation like any basic need makes us vulnerable, open to exploitation by those who use the cloak of friendship to hide a host of less honourable intentions.

Reasonably harmless are the kind who are friendly only when they stand to gain from it. Worse are those who, eaten by envy and resentment, raise themselves by lowering another, trample on one who extends a helping hand; gain control exerting insidious pressure; and delight in someone else’s degradation.

Such people often masquerade as friends, but, really, they are enemies out to destroy: Extremely dangerous ? and best avoided.

So watch out for the signs: beware false friends, whilst at the same time doubling your appreciation of those who prove themselves true.

I know of a young family. The woman doesn’t believe in marriage. Her father was a difficult, abusive man; her mother brow-beaten, down-trodden. Determined not to risk ending up like her, she retains control of home and children.

Her partner is a good family man. He would dearly like to have legal rights to his own children, see them bear his name; be joint owner of the home they share. As it is, their mother could at any time lock the door, throw him out, walk off with a new lover, taking the children with her.

I know a couple: a middle-aged business-man and a younger, professional woman. His first marriage ended in divorce. It cost him a lot of money. Never again, he vows, will he put himself at such disadvantage.

His partner dreams of marriage and a family, but her reality is a long-term limbo. The man’s friends don’t quite accept her. The ex-wife won’t let the children meet her. Occasions with his family place her discreetly in the background. She feels they all regard her as inferior: the one not good enough, or loved enough, to be his wife.

There must be many similar scenarios, where the ones who, for reasons of their own, won’t commit themselves have it all their way; whilst those willing to give themselves freelysuffer in silence.

“How is married life ” I asked a childhood friend over a cup of coffee. We were in our mid-twenties; hadn’t seen each other for years. I’d heard she’d got married shortly after leaving school.