YET ANOTHER SENTENCE BY JAMES JOYCE
Unheeded he kept by them as they came towards the drier sand, a rag of wolf’s tongue redpanting from his jaws.
This sentence has the capacity to make one feel that one should put one’s pencil down and toss one’s scribbles into the fire and go sit quietly by the sea.
In those days, all the best British writers were Irish. My wife says they still are.