A thrush was feeding in a thicket of myrtles, and, charmed by the sweetness of their berries, could not leave it. A fowler, having noticed that she took pleasure in that spot, caught her with birdlime. Then, seeing herself about to be killed, she said, "How wretched I am! For the pleasure of eating, I am robbing myself of life."
*Those who surrender themselves to pleasure may sacrifice their very lives for it.Moral
One fable, every Sunday, in your inbox.