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... Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:
Build thee more stately mansions,
o my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler then the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
- Oliver Wendell Holmes
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