Quotes About Illness

When you have a life-threatening illness like cancer, and you're faced with the alternative, it gives doing whatever it is you do a much sweeter taste.

While deficits are often inflationary and always pernicious, curing them by raising taxes is equivalent to curing an illness by shooting the patient.

He exaggerates his golf scores and his handicap for the same reason he exaggerates everything. He has to. He exhibits all the traits of a narcissistic personality disorder. People with his disorder have no conscience about it. He has no sense of morality about things. He lacks empathy towards others. He's a very ill man. He doesn't get that other people have rights and feelings. Other people just don't matter to him.

The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four people is suffering from a mental illness. Look at your 3 best friends. If they're ok, then it's you.

Sleepless, I stare from the dark hospital room at shadows of a flower and its leaves the nightlight fixes like a blotto on the corridor wall.

Olive never had to wear flannel petticoats. Olive wore ruffled silk and sheer lawn and filmy laced flounces. But Olive's father had 'married money' and Olive never had Bronchitis. So there you were.

Shirley, the little brown boy, as he was known in the family Who's Who, was asleep in Susan's arms. He was brown-haired, brown-eyed and brown-skinned, with very rosy cheeks, and he was Susan's especial love. After his birth Anne had been very ill for a long time, and Susan mothered the baby with a passionate tenderness which none of the other children, dear as they were to her, had ever called out. Dr. Blythe had said that but for her he would never have lived.

Young Johnny Booth was to have been married yesterday, but he couldn't be because he's gone and got the mumps. Wasn't that like a man?

My head is killing me, my throat is killing me, my stomach bubbles with toxic waste. I just want to sleep. A coma would be nice. Or amnesia. Anything, just to get rid if this, these thoughts, whispers in my mind.

Mom closes her eyes. Her skin is a flat gray color, like underwear that has been washed so many times it's about to fall apart. I feel bad that I didn't fold more shirts for her.

Our teachers need a snow day. They look unusually pale. The men aren't shaving carefully and the women never remove their boots. They suffer some sort of teacherflu. Their noses drip, their eyes are rimmed with red. They come to school long enough to infect the staff room then go home sick when the sub shows up.

A lot of our entertainment throws into detail the stagnation and illness of how we live today-it's sad and it's sick... and it's profitable.

Health has its science, as well as disease.

Unfortunately, only a small number of patients with peptic ulcer are financially able to make a pet of an ulcer.

To talk of diseases is a sort of Arabian Nights entertainment.

Every medicine is vain.

Yesterday in his hospital room my husband asked urgently, Will you move me twenty-six thousand miles to the left?Yes, I said, not moving from my chair. After a moment he said, Thank you, adding in wonder, I didn't feel a thing.

I have suffered from depression for most of my life. It is an illness.

Every medicine is vain.

Some remedies are worse than the disease itself.

The assumption is that life doesn't need to be navigated with lessons. You can just do it intuitively. After all, you only need to achieve autonomy from your parents, find a moderately satisfying job, form a relationship, perhaps raise some children, watch the onset of mortality in your parents' generation and eventually in your own, until one day a fatal illness starts gnawing at your innards and you calmly go to the grave, shut the coffin and are done with the self-evident business of life.

Aamulla kuningattarella oli vähän nuhaa, ja koska sovittuja tapaamisia ei ollut, hän sanoi olevansa ehkä vilustunut ja jäi vuoteeseen. Se ei ollut hänelle tyypillistä eikä myöskään totta, hän sanoi sen oikeastaan vains siksi että saisi jatkaa lukemista.

There were, Mouritz believed, three forms of the disease: one which attacked primarily the skin, and which spread rapidly and horribly throughout the body; one which attacked the nerves, progressing more slowly and with less deformity; and certain borderline cases, a mix of the two. Haleola had the neural form;

A Course in Miracles doesn't limit psychic self-mutilation to unrequited love. The Course tells us that any illness and any pain, physical or emotional, is our way of holding someone else guilty for hurting us. If we did not blame others, the Course explains, we would never be sick. I