Letter 106: Stephanus hears gold everywhere, even when Procopius is talking about time and letters.

It seems you see nothing except gold. Gold leads you, lifts you into the air, and has filled your mind with golden images. I wrote to you about leisure: that the season does not give us everything we want, but only what necessity measures out for the need. By "need" I did not mean a lack of money, but the thing toward which Fortune drives us. You rushed wholly toward gold. You seemed to pity me as if I were destitute and looked for consolation, setting philosophy against money, as though I were groaning because I did not glitter with Croesus's talents. So the word buzzes around your ears, and you seem to hear everyone saying "gold." By Zeus, what led you into such folly? How could I excuse my failure to write letters by pleading poverty, as if the man writing had to be drenched in gold? If anything is self-governing and free from the power of wealth, it is the act of writing. Your thoughts are exposed by this passion. Once your mind leans that way, it reshapes everything toward the same thing and carries your hearing along in the deception. I am afraid that even if I say "lyre" or name a horse, you will again think you hear "gold"; and while consoling others, you yourself will need someone to treat you. I was drawn into joking with you and into putting into this letter the laughter I endured while reading yours. Yield a little to the passion now, and write a sober letter.

Στεφάνωι Οὐδὲν ὡς ἔοικεν ὅ τι μὴ χρυσίον ὁρᾷς, ἄγει δέ σε αὐτὸ καὶ ποιεῖ μετάρσιον, καὶ χρυσῶν εἰδώλων ἀνέπλησέ σου τὸν νοῦν. ἐμοῦ γάρ σοι περὶ σχολῆς γεγραφότος, ὡς οὐ πάντα δίδωσιν ἡμῖν ὁ καιρός, ἀλλ' ὅσα πρὸς τὴν χρείαν ἀνάγκη μετρεῖ, καὶ χρείαν εἰπόντος οὐ τὴν τῶν χρημάτων ἔνδειαν, ἀλλ' ἐφ' ὃ παρὰ τῆς τύχης ἀγόμεθα, σὺ πρὸς τὸ χρυσίον ὅλος ὥρμησας καὶ συνάχθεσθαί μοι ἐδόκεις ἠπορημένῳ, καὶ παραμυθίαν ἐζήτεις, τὴν φιλοσοφίαν ἀντιτάττων τοῖς χρήμασιν, ὡς ἐμοῦ δὴ στένοντος ὅτι μὴ τοῖς Κροίσου ταλάντοις ἁβρύνομαι. οὕτω περιβομβεῖ σου τὰ ὦτα, καὶ πάντων δοκεῖς χρυσίον λεγόντων ἀκούειν. τί γάρ σε, πρὸς Διός, ἐπὶ ταύτην ἀπῆγε τὴν ἄνοιαν; ἢ πῶς ἂν ἀπελογούμην περὶ τοῦ μὴ γράφειν ἐπιστολὰς χρημάτων ἔνδειαν προβαλλόμενος, ὡς δέον πολλῷ καταρρεῖσθαι χρυσίῳ τὸν ἐπιστέλ λοντα; καὶ μὴν εἴπερ τι καὶ ἄλλο, τὸ γράφειν αὐτόνομόν τέ ἐστι καὶ τῆς ἐκ τοῦ πλούτου δυναστείας ἐλεύθερον. οὕτω σοι τὰ τῆς διανοίας ὑπὸ τοῦ πάθους ἐλέγχεται· ῥέψασα γὰρ ἐνταῦθα πάντα πρὸς τοῦτο μεταποιεῖ, καὶ συναπατωμένην ἔχει τὴν ἀκοήν. καὶ δέδοικα μή, κἂν λύραν εἴπω κἂν ἵππον ὀνομάσω, πάλιν δόξῃς χρυσίον ἀκούειν, καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους παραμυθούμενος αὐτὸς δεήσῃ τοῦ θεραπεύοντος. ταῦτα παίζειν ὑπήχθην πρός σε καὶ τοῖς γράμμασιν ἐνθεῖναι τὸν γέλωτα ὃν ὑπέστην ἀναγινώσκων σου τὴν ἐπιστολήν. σὺ δὲ μικρὸν τοῦ πάθους ἐνδοὺς γράφε λοιπὸν σωφρονοῦσαν ἐπιστολήν.