The confusing signals, the impurity of the signal, gives you verisimilitude, as when you attend a funeral and notice that it’s being poorly done.
The confusing signals, the impurity of the signal, gives you verisimilitude, as when you attend a funeral and notice that it’s being poorly done.
“I don’t have any great notion about where I stand as a poet. That will be taken care of by those wiser people who come later on the scene than we do. Thus, as in their turn, those opinions too will be revalued over and over. None of us knows in what direction poetry and those other arts will turn — that’s part of the cruel fascination of being interested in the arts as you are, and keeping your head about it.”
Conrad Aiken