Sleep is that golden chain that ties health and our bodies together.

Arguments, like children, should be like the subject that begets them.

This principle is old, but true as fate, Kings may love treason, but the traitor hate.

Cast away care, he that loves sorrow Lengthens not a day, nor can buy tomorrow; Money is trash, and he that will spend it, Let him drink merrily, fortune will send it.

This world, after all our science and sciences, is still a miracle; wonderful, inscrutable, magical and more, to whosoever will think of it.

The calmest husbands make the stormiest wives.

O what a heaven is love! O what a hell!

Honest labor bears a lovely face.

Surely man was not created to be an idle fellow; he was not set in this universal orchard to stand still as a tree.

Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, Smiles awake you when you rise.

Sleep is that golden chain that ties health and our bodies together.

We are ne'er like angels till our passion dies.

Were there no women, men might live like gods.

What a heaven is love! O what a hell!

A mask of gold hides all deformities.

This age thinks better of a gilded fool Than of a threadbare saint in wisdom's school.

Age is like love, it cannot be hid.

Age is like love, it cannot be hid

Long hair will make thee look dreafully to thine enemies and manly to thy friends it is in peace an ornament in war a strong helmet it... deadens the leade thump of a bullet in winter it is a warm nightcap in summer a cooling fan of feathers.

Long hair will make thee look dreafully to thine enemies, and manly to thy friends: it is, in peace, an ornament; in war, a strong helmet; it deadens the leaden thump of a bullet: in winter, it is a warm nightcap; in summer, a cooling fan of feathers.

Sleep is the golden chain that ties health and our bodies together.

Even if you walk exactly the same route each time - as with a sonnet - the events along the route cannot be imagined to be the same from day to day, as the poet's health, sight, his anticipations, moods, fears, thoughts cannot be the same.

From dear, dear Gloria Swanson, I learned how to live long, happy and free of health problems. I owe her my life.

The greatest public health threat for many American women is the men they live with.

As patients and consumers, we are better informed today about our health care than any previous generation.

Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory.

The surest way to return to the people's business is to listen to the people themselves: We need to drop this whole scheme of federally controlled health care, start over, and work together on real reforms at the state level that will contain costs and won't leave America trillions of dollars deeper in debt.

Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship.

On health care, virtually every political error that could be made was made.

Learning is the beginning of wealth. Learning is the beginning of health. Learning is the beginning of spirituality. Searching and learning is where the miracle process all begins.

Advances in science and medical research and public health policies have meant that life expectancy for Australians is one of the highest in the world.

Actually, I've been a fanatical health nut for five years.

Happiness, contentment, the health and growth of the soul, depend, as men have proved over and over again, upon some simple issue, some single turning of the soul.

I think health is another exceedingly important thing.

From this experience we have learned that in a big party it is important to have the necessary and often controversial discussions on policy issues such as the health system while in opposition.

A modern health and social care system has to be completely focussed on the needs of its users.

Health is the greatest possession. Contentment is the greatest treasure. Confidence is the greatest friend. Non-being is the greatest joy.

Any veteran can tell you it is already hard enough to see a doctor down at the VA and get the health care they were promised when they signed up to serve this country.

Obama's health care plan will be written by a committee whose head, John Conyers, says he doesn't understand it. It'll be passed by Congress that has not read it, signed by a president who smokes, funded by a Treasury chief who didn't pay his taxes, overseen by a Surgeon General who is obese, and financed by a country that's nearly broke. What could possibly go wrong?

Nothing is more capable of troubling our reason, and consuming our health, than secret notions of jealousy in solitude.

People who are always taking care of their health are like misers, who are hoarding a treasure which they have never spirit enough to enjoy.

The truth is, in order to get things like universal health care and a revamped education system, then someone is going to have to give up a piece of their pie so that someone else can have more.

If bringing up the next generation is important, why aren't they the best qualified, the best paid? Why aren't we as concerned about their career progression as we are about those who work in the education or health services?

During my nearly five years as director-general of WHO, high-level policymakers have increasingly recognized that health is central to sustainable development.

Those who enjoy their own emotionally bad health and who habitually fill their own minds with the rank poisons of suspicion, jealousy and hatred, as a rule take umbrage at those who refuse to do likewise, and they find a perverted relief in trying to denigrate them.

The U.S. routinely ranks lower than other countries in health outcomes such as infant mortality.

We have a country that wants to believe it is the best in everything, but until all of us embrace the idea that health care should be a right, not a privilege, our system cannot be glibly described as, quote, 'the best in the world.'

I have always detested any departure from reality, an attitude which I relate to my mother's poor mental health.

Without health life is not life; it is only a state of langour and suffering - an image of death.