Do not laugh! But once upon a time (my crest has long since fallen) I had a mind to make a body of more or less connected legend, ranging from the cosmogonic, to the level of romantic fairy story - the largest founded on the lesser in contact with the earth, the lesser drawing splendour from vast backcloths - which I could dedicate simply to England; to my country. It should posses the tone and quality that I desired, somewhat cool and clear, be redolent of 'our' air (the clime and soil of the North West, meaning Britain and the hither parts of Europe: not Italy or the Aegean, still less the East), and while possessing (if I could achieve it) the fair elusive beauty that some call Celtic (though it is rarely found in genuine ancient Celtic things), it should be 'high', purged of the gross, and fit for the more adult mind of a land now steeped in poetry. I would draw some of the great tales in fullness, and leave many only placed in the scheme, and sketched. The cycles should be linked to a majestic whole, and yet leave scope for other minds and hands wielding paint and music and drama. Absurd."