“The dignity of a physician requires that he should look healthy, and as plump as nature intended him to be; for the common crowd consider those who are not of this excellent bodily condition to be unable to take care of themselves.”

What I may see or hear in the course of the treatment or even outside of the treatment in regard to the life of men, which on no account one must spread abroad, I will keep to myself holding such things shameful to be spoken about.

Let your food be your medicine, and your medicine be your food.

Cure sometimes, treat often, comfort always.

An insolent reply from a polite person is a bad sign.

Timidity betrays want of powers, and audacity a want of skill. There are, indeed, two things, knowledge and opinion, of which the one makes its possessor really to know, the other to be ignorant.

For where there is love of man, there is also love of the art.

Idleness and lack of occupation tend – nay are dragged – towards evil.

Some patients, though conscious that their condition is perilous, recover their health simply through their contentment with the goodness of the physician.

Everything in excess is opposed to nature.

Where there is love of medicine, there is love of humankind.

Anyone wishing to study medicine must master the art of massage.

Wherever the art of Medicine is loved, there is also a love of Humanity.

The wise man should consider that health is the greatest of human blessings. Let food be your medicine.

The brain of man, like that of all animals is double, being parted down its centre by a thin membrane. For this reason pain is not always felt in the same part of the head, but sometimes on one side, sometimes on the other, and occasionally all over.

Wherefore the heart and the diaphragm are particularly sensitive, they have nothing to do, however, with the operations of the understanding, but of all these the brain is the cause.

It’s far more important to know what person the disease has than what disease the person has.

Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.

The hours we pass with happy prospects in view are more pleasing than those crowded with fruition.

When a place gets crowded enough to require ID’s, social collapse is not far away. It is time to go elsewhere.

We didn’t invent the Grateful Dead, the crowd invented the Grateful Dead.

My opening acts are always really strong because I need a guy who can take on a big, big crowd. Which is not that easy to do.

Scientists – the crowd that for dash and style make the general public look like the Bloomsbury set.

The crowd one day cried, “Crucify him,” and the whole world united to murder the Son of God, because in their ignorance they knew Him not.

I still search for you in crowds, in empty fields and soaring clouds. In city lights and passing cars, on winding roads and wishing stars.