The Future Belongs To Science.

Half Of Us Are Blind, Few Of Us Feel, And We Are All Deaf.

Even In Populous Districts, The Practice Of Medicine Is A Lonely Road Which Winds Up-hill All The Way And A Man May Easily Go Astray And Never Reach The Delectable Mountains Unless He Early Finds Those Shepherd Guides Of Whom Bunyan Tells, Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, And Sincere.

To Have A Group Of Cloistered Clinicians Away Completely From The Broad Current Of Professional Life Would Be Bad For Teacher And Worse For Student. The Primary Work Of A Professor Of Medicine In A Medical School Is In The Wards, Teaching His Pupils How To Deal With Patients And Their Diseases.

Perhaps No Sin So Easily Besets Us As A Sense Of Self-satisfied Superiority To Others.

If It Were Not For The Great Variability Among Individuals, Medicine Might As Well Be A Science, Not An Art.