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 William Shakespeare once said...

(Macbeth:) How does your patient, doctor? (Doctor:) Not so sick, my lord, As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies That keep her from her rest. (Macbeth:) Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory of a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuffed bosom of the perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? (Doctor:) Therein the patient Must minister to himself. (Macbeth:) Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it!

In Medicine Quotes, by William Shakespeare , Source: Macbeth (Macbeth & Doctor at V, iii)

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