I do remember an apothecary,
And hereabouts 'a dwells, which late I noted
In tatt'red weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples. Meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuffed, and other skins
Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses
Were thinly scattered, to make up a show.
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There is no medicine to cure hatred
There is no medicine to cure hatred
He (Tiberius) was wont to mock at the arts of physicians, and at
those who, after thirty years of read more
He (Tiberius) was wont to mock at the arts of physicians, and at
those who, after thirty years of age, needed counsel as to what
was good or bad for their bodies.
I firmly believe that if the whole materia medica could be sunk
to the bottom of the sea, it read more
I firmly believe that if the whole materia medica could be sunk
to the bottom of the sea, it would be all the better for mankind
and all the worse for the fishes.
One of the signs of passing youth is the birth of a sense of
fellowship with other human beings read more
One of the signs of passing youth is the birth of a sense of
fellowship with other human beings as we take our place among
them.
Water, air, and cleanness are the chief articles in my pharmacy.
Water, air, and cleanness are the chief articles in my pharmacy.
You behold in me
Only a travelling Physician;
One of the few who have a mission
read more
You behold in me
Only a travelling Physician;
One of the few who have a mission
To cure incurable diseases,
Or those that are called so.
A single doctor likes a sculler plies,
And all his art and all his physic tries;
But read more
A single doctor likes a sculler plies,
And all his art and all his physic tries;
But two physicians, like a pair of oars,
Conduct you soonest to the Stygian shores.
The only profession that labors incessantly to destroy the reason for its own existence.
The only profession that labors incessantly to destroy the reason for its own existence.
But, when the wit began to wheeze,
And wine had warm'd the politician,
Cur'd yesterday of my read more
But, when the wit began to wheeze,
And wine had warm'd the politician,
Cur'd yesterday of my disease,
I died last night of my physician.
