Yet in how many tiny and inconsiderable trifles is this curiosity of our daily tempted: and how often we slip, who shall number? When people tell idle stories, it happens only too often that we first endure them, lest we give offence to the weak, and then little by little find ourselves listening willingly. I no longer go to the Games to see a dog chasing a hare, but if in going through a field I come upon the same thing, the chase may easily draw me off some serious thought and concentrate me upon itself, forcing me from my path not by the body of my horse but by the inclination of my heart; and indeed unless You quickly showed me my infirmity and admonished me, either by some train of thought to rise from the actual sight of You, or at least to despise and pass by the thing itself, I would simply stand gaping at it. What is to be said of me when a lizard catching flies or a spider tangling them as they fall into her net often holds my attention so close, when I am sitting at home?…
St. Augustine, Confessions, translated by F.J. Sheed, Book Ten Chapter XXXV.
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