Check out this 1984 cover.
Now check out this poem.
No man is an Island,
Entire of itself;
Each is a piece of the Continent,
A part of the main;
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,
As well as if a promontory were,
As well as if a manor of thy friends
Or of thine own were.
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in Mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
– John Donne
(Can you tell I'm putting off working on my dissertation. Some of the info is still managing to osmosis it's way in, like this diagram of Hallin's Sphere about how the press something something... frustratingly reproduced on bubble wrap. I kind of feel like an island right now. Or a sphere within a sphere. A wheel within a wheel.)