Females and Their Diseases: A Series of Letters to His Class

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Lea and Blanchard, 1848 - 670 Seiten
 

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Seite 162 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuff d bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct.
Seite 41 - Leviathan, which God of all his works Created hugest that swim the ocean stream...
Seite 250 - Hark ! they whisper ; angels say, Sister Spirit, come away. . What is this absorbs me quite ! Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath ? Tell me, my soul! can this be death?
Seite 27 - ... or some stupid conceit of your personal dignity; or, what is still more asinine, the dignity of your calling. Dignity is you, not physic, nor the practice thereof. Did you never hear that " Worth makes the man, the want of it the fellow, And all the rest is leather and prunella...
Seite 413 - So he fled with all that he had; and he rose up, and passed over the river, and set his face toward the mount Gilead. "And it was told Laban on the third day that Jacob was fled. "And he took his brethren with him, and pursued after him seven days' journey; and they overtook him in the mount Gilead.
Seite 29 - I feel not in me those sordid and unchristian desires of my profession; I do not secretly implore and wish for Plagues, rejoice at Famines, revolve Ephemerides and Almanacks in expectation of malignant Aspects, fatal Conjunctions, and Eclipses.
Seite 38 - ... functions, by their relation to her whole life-force, whether in sickness or health, are capable of exerting, not on the body alone, but on the heart, the mind, and the very soul of woman. The medical practitioner has, then, much to study, as to the female, that is not purely medical — but psychological and moral rather: such researches will be a future obligation lying heavily upon you, upon all of you.
Seite 47 - She [Woman] has a head almost too small for intellect but just big enough for love.
Seite 44 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made, When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou ! — Scarce were the piteous accents said, When, with the Baron's casque, the maid To the nigh streamlet ran.

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