There is no medicine to cure hatred

There is no medicine to cure hatred

(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!

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.

But in this point
All his tricks founder and he brings his physic
After his patient's death: read more

But in this point
All his tricks founder and he brings his physic
After his patient's death: the king already
Hath married the fair lady.

For of the most High cometh healing.

For of the most High cometh healing.

But, when the wit began to wheeze,
And wine had warm'd the politician,
Cur'd yesterday of my read more

But, when the wit began to wheeze,
And wine had warm'd the politician,
Cur'd yesterday of my disease,
I died last night of my physician.

Adrian, the Emperor, exclaimed incessantly, when dying, "That the
crowd of physicians had killed him."

Adrian, the Emperor, exclaimed incessantly, when dying, "That the
crowd of physicians had killed him."

By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor too.

By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor too.

The only profession that labors incessantly to destroy the reason for its own existence.

The only profession that labors incessantly to destroy the reason for its own existence.