I resign, the evening seemed to say, as it paled and faded above the battlements and prominences, moulded, pointed, of hotel, flat, and block of shops, I fade, she was beginning, I disappear, but London would have none of it, and rushed her bayonets into the sky, pinioned her, constrained her to partnership in her revelry.


(this part is me:)

I can't get away with this stuff. In a way, the whole book is there. Condensing your whole book down to a sentence is a swing. I suppose genius makes it work!