It has been one of the less possible dreams of my life to be a painted Pagan God and live upon a ceiling [...] The company about me on the clouds varies greatly with the mood of the vision, but always it is in some way, if not always a very obvious way, beautiful. One frequent presence is G.K. Chesterton, a joyous whirl of brush work, appropriately garmented and crowned. When he is there, I remark, the whole ceiling is by a sort of radiation convivial. We drink limitless old October from handsome flagons, and we argue mightily about Pride (his weak point) and the nature of Deity.  A hygienic, attentive, and essentially anesthetic Eagle checks, in the absence of exercise, any undue enlargement of our Promethean  livers...

-H.G. Wells. An Englishman Looks at the World