Excerpt from Evelyn Waugh's Put Out More Flags
Why, he wondered, do real intellectuals always prefer the company of rakes to that of their fellows? Basil is a Philistine and a crook; on occasions he can be a monumental bore; on occasions a grave embarrassment; he is a man for whom there will be no place in the coming Workers' State; and yet, thought Ambrose, I hunger for his company. It is a curious thing, he thought, that every creed promises a paradise which will be absolutely uninhabitable for anyone of civilized taste. Nanny told me of a Heaven that was full of angels playing harps; the Communists tell me of an earth full of leisured and contented factory hands. I don't see Basil getting past the gate of either.