So I'm still working through Vollmann's The Atlas and here are some examples of amazing moments when this guy is on magic writing dust he may have stolen from the tomb of William Shakespeare.
"In this town, we answer a question only by I don’t know and probably."
"...behind which occasional lights burned weakly like failures."
"...but the hair of the one he danced with was as flowery ricefields under hot purple clouds."
"...whose trees spread lushly pubic shadows..."
"Since Heaven and forever are both beyond time, whoever is meant to be in Heaven must already be in Heaven now."