Graham Greene, talking about his early prose style in Ways of Escape

Here are examples of my style in those days and my terrible misuse of simile and metaphor. Even the good can corrupt and perhaps I had been corrupted by much reading of the metaphysical poets. "A revolver drooped like a parched flower to the pavement." (I like to reverse this simile--"A parched flower drooped like a revolver to the pavement.") "The sound of far voices sprinkled over him like the seeds of a poppy bringing rest." And here's a piece of pomposity which I had learned from Conrad at his worst: "A clock relinquished its load of hours."