In Buddhist cosmology there is a realm of beings called hungry ghosts, pictured with enormous swollen bellies and throats no wider than a needle. Whatever they manage to swallow can never fill them, because the mouth that takes it in is too small to let enough through. It is a strange image at first, then an oddly precise one. It describes a particular kind of hunger: not the hunger that ends at a meal, but the hunger that grows in proportion to what feeds it.
The Dhammapada names this hunger directly. Chapter 24 is devoted to craving, and one of its sharper lines reads: "There is no river like craving, no fetter like hatred." A few verses on, it observes that even a shower of gold coins would not satisfy the desires of a person driven by craving, since sensual pleasures give little satisfaction and much pain. The second noble truth builds a whole diagnosis on this point: suffering does not come from lacking things, it comes from the mechanism of wanting itself, which does not shut off when it gets what it asked for. It just asks again, usually for something slightly larger.
Epicurus arrived at nearly the same diagnosis from a completely different direction, and gave it a structure the hungry ghost image only gestures at. In his Letter to Menoeceus, he sorts desires into three kinds: natural and necessary, natural but not necessary, and empty. Hunger for food is natural and necessary — it has a floor, and once met, it is met. The wish for an elaborate banquet instead of bread is natural but not strictly needed. But the wish for endless wealth, unbounded status, a reputation without limit — these are the empty desires, and Epicurus points out that they are empty precisely because they have no natural stopping point built into them. You cannot satisfy an appetite that was never shaped by a real need in the first place. It will simply keep generating new objects for itself, forever, which is another way of describing the hungry ghost's needle-thin throat.
Put the two together and something clarifies: the problem was never the size of what a person has. It is whether the wanting in question was ever the kind that could be closed. Real hunger closes. Thirst closes. The need for shelter, for rest, for companionship — these have edges, and life supplies enough to reach them more often than people notice. But status, comparison, the vague sense that more would finally settle something — these were never going to close, no matter how much arrives, because they were not built with an edge to begin with.
The useful question is rarely "how much would be enough?" It is "is this a hunger with a bottom, or one without?" The ones with a bottom are usually already satisfied. It is worth checking before reaching for more.