The breaking up of the grand Narratives …leads to what some authors analyze in terms of the dissolution of the social bond and the disintegration of social aggregates into a mass of individual atoms thrown into the absurdity of Brownian motion. Nothing of the kind is happening: this point of view, it seems to me, is haunted by the paradisaic representation of a lost “organic” society.
— Lyotard, The Post Modern Condition, p.15
This morning these were the first words Jenny sent to me via Google Talk.
The real ideas of a poem are not those that occur to the poet before he writes his poem, but rather those that appear in his work afterwards, whether by design or by accident. Content stems from form, and not vice versa. Every form produces its own idea, its own vision of the world. Form has meaning; and, what is more, in the realm of art only form possesses meaning. The meaning of the poem does not lie in what the poet wanted to say, but in what the poet actually says. What we think we are saying and what we are really saying are two quite different things.
— Octavio Paz (Alternating Current)