(...) if that's what has to be. No good friends. No bad friends. Only people you want, need to be with; people who build their houses in your heart.

He will be with his friends, and that always feels like coming home.

George, I’m sorry!” he cried through his tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, I’m suh-suh-SORRY—” And then they were around him, his friends, and no one lit a match, and someone held him, he didn’t know who, Beverly maybe, or maybe Ben, or Richie. They were with him, and for that little while the darkness was kind.

No good friends, no bad friends; only people you want,need to be with. People who build their houses in your heart .