“The cure for our modern maladies is dirt under the fingernails and the feel of thick grass between the toes. The cure for our listlessness is to be out within the invigorating wind. The cure for our uselessness is to take back up our stewardship; for it is not that there has been no work to be done, we simply have not been attending to it.”
“Our cure, to be no more; sad cure! ”
“We all labour against our own cure, for death is the cure of all disease.”
“Our risk is our cure.”
“In the end we all come to be cured of our sentiments.”
“ We are all prisoner, but the name of our cure is not freedom”