I've formed a solid relationship with my INFJ professor; she's the first healthy INFJ I've clicked with (the unhealthy one being my grandmother, whom I love but who has some issues). All I have to say about her is

. Actually, I have more to say.
She warms my heart and makes the air around me seem more friendly and breatheable. I've talked to her for what probably totals to two hours or so about a very personal and stressful subject--something that I don't even share with many of my close friends. Then she replies, completely baffled, "how are you not on drugs! or seeing several psychiatrists! dealing with that kind of situation is the kind of thing that really f*cks people up!"
But the truth is that little things like listening to a 10-minute story about her misadventures in getting a canary as a 7th pet really make me happy and carry me through harder times. And the truth is that just being around her and interacting with her would enable me to maintain a settled soul for a month.*
She listens so well and I can just be honest with her and not hold her at arms length like I feel I need to do with nearly every other person on the planet.
I'd do just fine in university without her, but she makes it 10^10x more worth it and more rewarding. I took 3 of her classes. I also love that she's wicked smart and that she's smarter than me. I only wish she'd share more of her moodiness with me (currently magnified because she's quite pregnant), because I think she thinks she needs to be in a good mood for me to enjoy her company. I don't pick up others' feelings like she does; I'd enjoy listening to her vent. But of course this might just be the power dynamic that still remains in our relationship; we're still professor-student, despite how many stories she would be willing to tell me about herself if I asked.
*(Other things that help, for example, are little things like teaching a 25-month-old cousin how to stick her tongue out as a game, and then seeing that now 3-year-old cousin stick her tongue out at the church choir as they're performing a somber piece, getting a few of them to smirk, and then having the 3-year-old eventually turn half the choir into a state unable to sing because she keeps getting a rise out of the choir members... and knowing this all stems back to a small moment when I stuck my tongue out at her last year... priceless. These things help too.)