"It is not larger time that we want, so much as the more capacious soul to flow through every pore of the little which we have. So long as we shrink within the fence of selfish ease, and see nothing, feel nothing, think nothing, beyond the drowsy range of personal routine, our lot will be so empty, that no amount of it can ever seem enough; and our complaint of life's brevity would not be cured by the gift of centuries." Martineau.
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