Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian: Or the Evening Redness in the West (paid link):
All night sheetlightning quaked sourceless to the west beyond the midnight thunderheads, making a bluish day of the distant desert, the mountains on the sudden skyline stark and black and livid like a land of some other order out there whose true geology was not stone but fear.
I started this about three years ago, the same day I finished inhaling The Road (paid link) in under 24 hours, and it didn’t strike me right. This time, it’s striking me right.
I’ve read the quoted sentence at least 10 times, and I’m still finding new things to like about it.
So far, I’ve looked up an average of a word per page in this book. I love that, too!