What I think a doctor should do is prevent disease, by any means necessary.

I'd find it demeaning to be cleaning toilets.

My aim in helping the patient was not to cause death. My aim was to end suffering. It's got to be decriminalized.

The public has no power. The government knows I'm not a criminal. The parole board knows I'm not a criminal. The judge knows I'm not a criminal.

Rotten travesty. Yeah. Send me to jail for contempt. Try that. Go ahead.

I would not want to live with a tube in my neck and not be able to move a finger. I wouldn't - that to me is not life.

I hate to say this, but I'll repeat it: After death, all we know that you do is stink.

My intent was to carry out my duty as a doctor, to end their suffering. Unfortunately, that entailed, in their cases, ending of the life.

I have a natural right to do whatever I want with my body as long as it doesn't affect anybody else or any other property.

Despite the solace of hypocritical religiosity and its seductive promise of an after-life of heavenly bliss, most of us will do anything to thwart the inevitable victory of biological death.

I knew I was getting into one of the most illegal things in the world. It was the right thing to do.

The only way you can write is by the light of the bridges burning behind you.

I have no desire to spend every night of the next few months at balls and soirees or drowning in tea with morning callers.

He who postpones the hour of living rightly is like the rustic who waits for the river to run out before he crosses.

A moss which leaves its ocean becomes pale and dries up and a man which leaves his mother country is a moss which leaves it ocean!

I still believe in stories. I still forget myself when I am in the middle of a good book. Books are for me, it must be said, the most important thing.

Sometimes it's about playing a poor hand well.

Why should you renounce your right to traverse the star-lit deserts of truth, of the premature comforts of an acre, house, and barn? Truth also has its roof, and bed, and board.

Jesus was a pothead- long hair, beard, sandals, carpenter- do the math it all adds up. Living with twelve guys with no visible means of support.

Failure to me became not trying versus not succeeding

Eventually, I became involved with somebody and I was fired.