Like a splinter in his eye!

(Joseph Alleine, "An Alarm to the Unconverted" 1671)

When a man is converted, he is forever at enmity with sin;
yes, with all sin—but most of all with his own sins—and
especially with his bosom sin. Sin is now the object of his
indignation. His sin swells his sorrows. It is sin which pierces
him and wounds him; he feels it like a thorn in his side, like
a splinter in his eye!
He groans and struggles under it,
and not formally—but feelingly cries out, "O wretched man
that I am!" He is not impatient of any affliction—so much
as of his sin. If God should give him his choice—he would
choose any affliction—so that he might be rid of sin. He
feels sin like the cutting gravel in his shoes—pricking
and paining him as he goes.

Before conversion he had light thoughts of sin. He cherished
it in his bosom, as Uriah his lamb. He nourished it up, and
it grew up together with him; it ate, as it were, of his own
plate, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and
was to him as a sweet daughter. But when God opens his
eyes by conversion—he throws it away with abhorrence, as
a man would a loathsome toad, which in the dark he had
hugged fast in his bosom—and thought it had been some
pretty and harmless pet.

When a man is savingly changed—he is deeply convinced
not only of the danger—but the defilement of sin; and O,
how earnest is he with God to be purified! He loathes
himself for his sins. He runs to Christ, and casts himself
into the fountain set open for sin and for uncleanness.
If he falls into sin—what a stir is there to get all clean
again! He has no rest until he flees to the infinite
—and washes and rubs and rinses—to cleanse
himself from all filthiness both of flesh and spirit.