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From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. I craved the strength and certainty of steel. I aspired to the purity of the blessed machine. Your kind cling to your flesh as if it will not decay and fail you. One day the crude biomass you call a temple will wither and you will beg my kind to save you. But I am already saved. For the Machine is Immortal.

Warhammer 40,000

I believe that nearly 90% of all of the relationships we have that we call 'friendships' are really 'aquaintences'. To me, a friend is somebody you  need because you like them. You don't like them because you need them.

Unknown