A man's own observation, what he find good of, and what he finds
hurt of, is the best physic read more

A man's own observation, what he find good of, and what he finds
hurt of, is the best physic to preserve health.

For of the most High cometh healing.

For of the most High cometh healing.

(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!

Water, air, and cleanness are the chief articles in my pharmacy.

Water, air, and cleanness are the chief articles in my pharmacy.

So liv'd our sires, ere doctors learn'd to kill,
And multiplied with theirs the weekly bill.

So liv'd our sires, ere doctors learn'd to kill,
And multiplied with theirs the weekly bill.

Physicians, of all men, are most happy: whatever good success
soever they have, the world proclaimeth and what faults read more

Physicians, of all men, are most happy: whatever good success
soever they have, the world proclaimeth and what faults they
commit, the earth covereth.

A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones. (Proverbs 17:22)

A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones. (Proverbs 17:22)

This is the way that physicians mend or end us,
Secundum artem: but although we sneer
In read more

This is the way that physicians mend or end us,
Secundum artem: but although we sneer
In health--when ill, we call them to attend us,
Without the least propensity to jeer.

I do remember an apothecary,
And hereabouts 'a dwells, which late I noted
In tatt'red weeds, with read more

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.