And sometimes the night wind nudged his feet so that they struck the circle of his priestly garment like dumb clappers in a deaf-and-dumb bell; they seemed to be tolling without evoking a sound. Joseph Roth, The Radetzky March
Let the schools of literary criticism, rapacious fingerlings, resort to the facts of the author’s life before they can interpret the text. Nadine Gordimer, “The Empire of Joseph Roth.”