Augustine isn't simply warning that money breeds unhappiness—a familiar enough observation. Rather, he's identifying something more subtle: the *act of wishing* itself for wealth corrupts the wisher, poisoning the mind before a single coin arrives. The misery begins in the longing, not the having. A person who spends their evening scrolling through luxury real estate listings, mentally rehearsing the life they'd have "if only," is already experiencing the very dissatisfaction they believe money would cure—they've just mislabeled its source.