The intensity is what you remember. The passion, the righteous indignation, the savage sense of purpose. He had to shove all of that feeling and all of those facts into his work, and that is why, I suppose, some of his sentences were like Dagwood sandwiches—those big, sloppy, comical snacks concocted by the cartoon character . They tended to go on and on and on, with clauses piled on top of clauses, new thoughts added to old thoughts, everything towering and slapdash.
David Halberstam, who died Monday in a car accident, broke all the rules - the ones about short, “reader-friendly” paragraphs and keeping things simple. All the smart advice.