constructed so easily and yet balanced so exactly that, even when they are very long, he hardly ever needs the support of a semicolon, the comma doing all that is required. For the comma, indeed, with its greater flexibility, he shows a partiality; or he loves the sinuous line, the sentence which flows forward, flows back on itself and flows forward again before it winds to its determined end. His dialogue is untranslatable. It is not the realistic dialogue of which almost all contemporary novels are full; it is a separate form of art with its own laws. In sense of style there is no living English writer who approaches it, except Mr. Joyce in certain pages of Ulysses .
Edwin Muir