My father always used to say that when you die, if you’ve got five real friends, then you’ve had a great life.

The quote redefines “a great life” by shifting the metric from accumulation (money, titles, influence) to the durability and authenticity of one’s relationships. “Five real friends” implies rarity: true friendship is hard to earn and harder to keep across time, conflict, and changing circumstances. By placing the evaluation at death, the saying invokes a final accounting in which superficial popularity falls away. The emphasis is not on quantity but on depth—people who know you, stand by you, and for whom you do the same—suggesting that character and reciprocity are the real measures of a life well lived.