"It came boring out of the east like some ribald satellite of the coming sun howling and bellowing in the distance and the long light of the headlamp running through the tangled mesquite brakes and creating out of the night the endless fenceline down the dead straight right of way and suckling it back again wire and post mile on mile into the darkness after where the boilersmoke disbanded slowly along the faint new horizon and the sound came lagging and he stood still holding his hat in his hands in the passing ground-shudder watching it till it was gone."

From All The Pretty Horses by Cormac mcCarthy

Whew, what a sentence! An endless sentence to describe an endless train. I like the concept. Hard reading though - I keep having to go back over passages to figure out what exactly he's on about. It'll be interesting to see whether I stick it out on this one or not.