'"...Has it never occurred to you what a lovely thing revolution is - La Revolution - she, the person, the spirit, the beast, perhaps - I am not sure which - who wipes off the dust and makes the rusty wheels turn again, and sweeps away dead ideas and brings forth living ones; that persistent enemy of stagnation without whose broom and dustpan human affairs would be smothered by refuse and cobwebs and eaten out by dry-rot? I don't paint allegorical pictures, you know; but if I were ever deluded enough to attempt one, I would try to put Revolution worthily on canvas, in her blood-red robe, holding a scourge in her hand. She is a divinity much more to my taste than smirking marble Apollos, or even Raffaelesque Madonnas, dressed, parrot-like, in half the colours of the rainbow."'
from The Wages of Sin by Lucas Malet (Book III, Chapter II)
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