What creature but a madman would not rather do good than ill, when it is plain that, good or ill, it must return upon himself?
Sick children inevitably become arrested: You are fated to live out your days as the child you were when diagnosed, the child who believes there is life after a novel ends. And we, as adults, we pity this, so we pay for your treatments, for your oxygen machines. We give you food and water though you are unlikely to live long enough…
When people are ill, they have such strange fancies! They are like children, they do not know what they want.
Some are reputed sick and some are not. It often happens that the sicker man is the nurse to the sounder.
Sickness is normal. It’s the absence of sickness that’s dangerous, for then the organism stops fighting and it soon falls apart.
Our air up here is good for the disease — I mean good against the disease,… but it is also good for the disease.
One has the idea of a stupid man as perfectly healthy and ordinary, and of illness as making one refined and clever and unusual.
It’s not catastrophes, murders, deaths, diseases, that age and kill us; it’s the way people look and laugh, and run up the steps of omnibuses.