It is not a case we are treating; it is a living, palpitating, alas, too often suffering fellow creature.

Doctors don’t know everything really. They understand matter, not spirit. And you and I live in spirit.

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

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.

How many desolate creatures on the earth have learnt the simple dues of fellowship and social comfort in a hospital.

When the physician said to him, “You have lived to be an old man,” he said, “That is because I never employed you as my physician.”

The poets did well to conjoin music and medicine, because the office of medicine is but to tune the curious harp of man’s body.

I have yet, I believe, some years in store, for I have a good state of health and a happy mind, and I take care of both by nourishing the first with temperance and the latter with abundance. This, I believe, you will allow to be the true philosophy of life.

You can’t find the soul with a scalpel.

Let the young know they will never find a more interesting, more instructive book than the patient himself.

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

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

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