The medical profession, by its drift toward specialization, is handing the family doctor his hat and showing him the door.
Haad yeor gob, ye lippy yap!
They are wet with the showres of the mountaines, and imbrace the rocke for want of a shelter.
I bequeath to you my literary work. Useless though these might be commercially, they are the attar-drops distilled from the long and futile ebullience of my life.
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