Henry James, author, wrote paste, which is a story with long, suspensive, sentences that just when you think will climax, won't.

Henry James delivers sentences with great suspension, but what stands out is the fact that there’s no climax at the end of them. In short, he makes us wait, and wait, and wait and when we finally get there, there’s just another door.
“The pair of mourners, sufficiently stricken, were in the garden of the vicarage together, before luncheon, waiting to be summoned to that meal, and Arthur Prime had still in his face the intention, she was moved to call it rather than the expression, of feeling something or other.”
He describes the characters, sets the setting, gives us names, details and ends with “something or other.” The voice of the piece then is almost asthmatic. We wait, clause after clause to get “something or other.” But that doesn’t mean we get sick of it, or at least, that wasn’t my experience. Instead, you say “fine, Henry, I’ll open the next door” so on and so forth. Because there is no majestic explosion after the suspension, the entire piece becomes suppressive, one sentence slowly rolling into the next and into the next.
Here, the list of one sentences gives the sense continuing beyond its period and into the next:
“They met her eyes for the first time, but in a moment, before touching them, she knew them as things of the theatre, as very much too fine to have been with any verisimilitude things of the vicarage. They were too dreadfully good to be true, for her aunt had had no jewels to speak of, and these were coronets and girdles, diamonds, rubies and sapphires. Flagrant tinsel and glass, they looked strangely vulgar… “
It won’t stop. And from the rubies we go to the tinsel and how they looked vulgar and what that says about the character and on and on.
In sharp contrast to his prose, the dialogue of his characters is fragmented and with sharp edges:
"Cheap gilt, diamonds as big as potatoes. These are trappings of a ruder age than ours. Actors do themselves better now.”
They allow us to breathe before and move quickly before we get stuck back again into the intentionally swampy, slowing prose.