A Pillar of Iron: A Novel of Ancient Rome

by Taylor Caldwell

There was a smell about the city which invigorated him and which lay under the welter of stenches. He loved the shops, the fora, the sound of life and bustle, the teeming people, the façades of temples, the lofty single pillars bearing upon their tops the statues of heroes or the figures of winged deities driving chariots, the mighty fanned steps rising everywhere from street to upper street, the odors of frying fish and baking pastries and roasting meats and wines that gushed from the doors of inns, the crowded porticoes, the sudden brief clamor of music coming from small theatres as the musicians practiced, the air of might and business, the government buildings swarming with avid bureaucrats, the circuses always surrounded by mobs holding tickets aloft no matter the hour of the day, the clangor of traffic daily growing more dangerous, the whinny of horses, the clatter of wheels, the shouts, the rushing of women from doorway to doorway, the sight of the sun on red brick, the well-paved streets on which children played at all hours, and the general vociferous and roaring voice of power.

Not her longest sentence, either