Crime is a disease; criminals are sick people.

No marriage for them until they're cured; no children for them until they're well.

If they cure themselves, let 'em marry; let 'em breed; for then, if their children inherit the inclination, they also inherit the grit to cauterise the malady." He produced a huge handkerchief from the tails of his coat, and wiped his damp features and polished his forehead so violently that his wig took a new and jaunty angle.
"I'm talking too much," he said fretfully; "I'm talking a great deal--all the time--continually.

I've other patients--several--plenty! Do you think you're the only man I know who's trying to disfigure his liver and make spots come out all over inside him?
Do you ?" Siward smiled again, a worn, pallid smile.
"I can stand it while you are here, doctor, but when I'm alone it's--hard.

One of those crises is close now.