Sickness (n.) is greatest danger for the healthy. It is not from the strongest that harm comes to the strong, but from the weakest.
Sickness (n.) sharpens the sense of health: the sickliest writers — almost all the great ones — show the steadiest tone of health, knowing its teachers: morning, sunshine, forests, springs.
Sickness (n.) is a magnifying glass: morbid states show us, enlarged, states that are normal but hard to see when normal.
Sickness (n.) can be the concealed wisdom of a solitary nature, drawing it back to itself after every attempt to approach the men and aims of today.
Sickness (n.) has done me the greatest service: it liberated me and restored to me the courage to be myself — and the long resistance has exasperated my pride a little.
Sickness (n.) 'improves a man' — so might Europe's thousand-year softening be the effect of a long, secret suffering and withering?
Sickness (n.) is a powerful stimulant — but one has to be healthy enough for it.