The heart is pure theater throbbing in its cage palpably as any nightingale.

Each is like a river that leaves behind its name and shape, the whole course of its path , to vanish into the vast sea of God.

A minor operation is one that is done on someone else

Surgery is the red flower that blooms among the leaves and thorns that are the rest of medicine.

And If the surgeon is like a poet, then the scars you have made on countless bodies are like verses into the fashioning of which you have poured your soul.

Autopsies give us the facts but not the truth.

The liver, that great maroon snail: No wave of emotion sweeps it. Neither music nor mathematics gives it pause in its appointed tasks.