Ambrosius (who supplied our Adamantius aux organes splanchniques du bronze with the parchment, copyists, and funds that made it possible for him to produce his innumerable commentaries), remarks in a letter written from Athens that he had eaten no meal in Origen's company without something being read aloud, nor lain in his guest-bed unaccompanied by a reading from Scripture by one of the brethren, whose readings and prayers followed in continuous succession day and night.
We creatures of the belly, did we ever thus? We who yawn, and rub our eyes, and can barely contain our annoyance after one hour of reading? Then, as if after some great task, we go back to involvement with the business of the world. I say nothing of the heavy meals that depress our faculties, and am ashamed to mention the time lost each day to anticipation of visitors, or the visits we pay to others—when straightaway the prattle starts, and our words are wasted on tearing apart third parties. In dissecting the lives of others, we bite and in turn are bitten, and even as we take our leave we are busy chewing.
When friends have all gone home, our minds keep working. Now resentment makes a lion's face to flash across our own; now plans run through our minds in obsessive bursts, heedless of the Gospel's warning: "Tonight your dumb ass will be stripped of your life/soul. Who do your stored-up goods belong to then?"
Jerome, Letter 43 (To Marcella, in praise of country life)
From a 
