An argument is a disagreement among friends, or at least among neighbours, intended to bring both parties closer to the truth about the thing being discussed. This being so, an argument is always a noble exchange between two noble interlocutors with a noble goal in mind. A quarrel, on the other hand, is a disagreement among friends or neighbours which very quickly turns them into enemies. The goal of a quarrel, as distinct from an argument, is not to bring the other to the truth but to beat him into submission. 

An argument is inspired by the charity which a quarrel lacks. It is for this reason that the love of truth which animates a good argument leads to the love of the truth-seeker with whom we are arguing. To put the matter succinctly, caritas leads to claritas, which is another way of saying that love leads to reason.

Joseph Pearce, "Arguing but Never Quarreling"

Paul was not a people-pleaser. He was a people-lover, and because of that he did not change his message according to what others might think. Only people-lovers are able to confront. Only people-lovers are not controlled by other people. Paul even indicated to the Galatians that if he were still trying to please men, he would not be a servant of God (Gal. 1:10). That is how seriously he took the fear of man.

Not that this came naturally. Paul had the same fleshly instincts we do, and he knew it. As a result, he beseeched the churches to pray for him.

Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel.... Pray that I may declare if fearlessly, as I should. (Eph. 6:19-20)

Edward T. Welch, When People Are Big and God Is Small

When a community loses its memory, its members no longer know one another. How can they know one another if they have forgotten or have never learned one another's stories? If they do not know one another's stories, how can they know whether or not to trust one another? People who do not trust one another do not help one another, and moreover they fear one another. And this is our predicament now. Because of a general distrust and suspicion, we not only lost one another's help and companionship, but we are all now living in jeopardy of being sued.

. . . A good community, as we know, insures itself by trust, by good faith and good will, by mutual help. A good community, in other words, is a good local economy. It depends on itself for many of its essential needs and is thus shaped, so to speak, from the inside--unlike most modern populations that depend on distant purchases for almost everything and are thus shaped from the outside by the purposes and the influence of [advertising].

Wendell Berry, "The Work of Local Culture," from What Are People For?

No individual can lead a good or satisfying life under the rule of competition. . . . No community can succeed except by limiting somehow the competitiveness of its members. One cannot maintain one's "competitive edge" if one helps other people. . . . [Competitive advantages are] not thought of by people intent on loving their neighbors as themselves. And it is impossible to imagine that there can be any reconciliation between local and national competitiveness and global altruism. The ambition to "feed the world" or "feed the hungry," rising as it does out of the death struggle of farmer with farmer, proposes not the filling of stomachs, but the engorgement of "the bottom line."

Wendell Berry, "Economy and Pleasure," from What Are People For?