(Macbeth:) How does your patient, doctor?
(Doctor:) Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with read more

(Macbeth:) How does your patient, doctor?
(Doctor:) Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies
That keep her from her rest.
(Macbeth:) Cure her of that!
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
Pluck from the memory of a rooted sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
And with some sweet oblivious antidote
Cleanse the stuffed bosom of the perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?
(Doctor:) Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
(Macbeth:) Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it!

Trust not the physician;
His antidotes are poison, and he slays
More than you rob.

Trust not the physician;
His antidotes are poison, and he slays
More than you rob.

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.

In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew,
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
read more

In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew,
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismayed away.

We have to ask ourselves whether medicine is to remain a humanitarian and respected profession or a new but depersonalized read more

We have to ask ourselves whether medicine is to remain a humanitarian and respected profession or a new but depersonalized science in the service of prolonging life rather than diminishing human suffering.

A physician is nothing but a consoler of the mind.
[Lat., Medicus nihil aliud est quam animi consolatio.]

A physician is nothing but a consoler of the mind.
[Lat., Medicus nihil aliud est quam animi consolatio.]

Better to hunt in fields for health unbought,
Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.
The read more

Better to hunt in fields for health unbought,
Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.
The wise for cure on exercise depend;
God never made his work for man to mend.

"Is there no hope?" the sick man said,
The silent doctor shook his head,
And took his read more

"Is there no hope?" the sick man said,
The silent doctor shook his head,
And took his leave with signs of sorrow,
Despairing of his fee to-morrow.

God heals and the doctor takes the fee.

God heals and the doctor takes the fee.