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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.

by John Dryden Found in: Medicine Quotes,
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The medicine increases the disease.
[Lat., Aegrescitque medendo.]

The medicine increases the disease.
[Lat., Aegrescitque medendo.]

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You tell your doctor, that y' are ill
And what does he, but write a bill,
Of read more

You tell your doctor, that y' are ill
And what does he, but write a bill,
Of which you need not read one letter,
The worse the scrawl, the dose the better.
For if you knew but what you take,
Though you recover, he must break.

by Matthew Prior Found in: Medicine Quotes,
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Medicine, the only profession that labors incessantly to destroy the reason for its existence.

Medicine, the only profession that labors incessantly to destroy the reason for its existence.

by James Bryce Found in: Medicine Quotes,
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Learn from the beasts the physic of the field.

Learn from the beasts the physic of the field.

by Alexander Pope Found in: Medicine Quotes,
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To array a man's will against his sickness is the supreme art of medicine.

To array a man's will against his sickness is the supreme art of medicine.

by Henry Ward Beecher Found in: Medicine Quotes,
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It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it so it can be devoured by worms.

It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it so it can be devoured by worms.

by Christiaan Barnard Found in: Medicine Quotes,
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A doctor's reputation is made by the number of eminent men who die under his care.

A doctor's reputation is made by the number of eminent men who die under his care.

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(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!

by William Shakespeare Found in: Medicine Quotes,
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