Ours is an age which consciously pursues health, and yet only believes in the reality of sickness.

If we wait for a pandemic to appear, it will be too late to prepare.

Everyone who is sick is someone else’s patient zero.

Disease generally begins that equality which death completes.

All the world is topsy-turvy, and it has been topsy-turvy ever since the plague.

Even diseases have lost their prestige, there aren’t so many of them left.

If they prescribe a lot of remedies for some sickness or other, it means that the sickness is incurable.

What timid man does not avoid contact with the sick, fearing lest he contract a disease so near?

How sickness enlarges the dimension of a man’s self to himself! He is his own exclusive object.

I have learned much from disease which life could never have taught me anywhere else.

Plagues are as certain as death and taxes.

Men worry over the great number of diseases, while doctors worry over the scarcity of effective remedies.

I reckon being ill as one of the great pleasures of life, provided one is not too ill and is not obliged to work till one is better.