He is the best physician who is the most ingenious inspirer of hope.

A miracle drug is any drug that will do what the label says it will do.

There must be quite a few things a hot bath won’t cure, but I don’t know many of them.

To be sick is to enjoy monarchal prerogatives.

Well now, there’s a remedy for everything except death.

The doctor occupies a seat in the front row of the stalls of the human drama, and is constantly watching and even intervening in the tragedies, comedies, and tragicomedies which form the raw material of the literary art.

Health indeed is a precious thing, to recover and preserve which we undergo any misery, drink bitter potions, freely give our goods—restore a man to his health, his purse lies open to thee.

In the name of Hippocrates doctors have invented the most exquisite form of torture ever known to man: survival.

If a patient is poor, he is committed to a public hospital as “psychotic”; if he can afford the luxury of a private sanitarium, he is put there with the diagnosis of “neurasthenia”; if he is wealthy enough to be isolated in his own home under constant watch of nurses and physicians, he is simply an indisposed “eccentric.”

Keep away from physicians. It is all probing and guessing and pretending with them. They leave it to nature to cure in her own time, but they take the credit. As well as very fat fees.

The doctor should be opaque to his patients and, like a mirror, should show them nothing but what is shown to him.

The physician should look upon the patient as a besieged city and try to rescue him with every means that art and science place at his command.

Be temperate in wine, in eating, girls, and sloth, or the Gout will seize you.