say

I should think that if it were me, I would want a particularly English romance, not too unlike the butler in Remains of the Day and the housekeeper, perhaps even to go so far as Christabel and Randolph, but approximating most Wimsey and Vane. That is, to be perfectly identified for the qualities that one prizes the most, restraint, fortitude, intelligence, justice and idealism with a singular disregard for the perception of the public, to be able to live alone, in quiet isolation, always working. Perfectly unromantically, pragmatically true. And no doubt there shall be many painful mistakes along the way, and quite truly it may never be realizable, but better is it not to fail in imagination than to succeed in imitation?