Polysyndeton
Multiplying coordinating conjunctions, stretching the sentence into an ample or obsessive breath.
Polysyndeton repeats the conjunction before each coordinated element where usage would put only one: "and the rain, and the wind, and the falling night." The sentence advances in regular waves; each "and" relaunches the breath instead of closing it.
It can produce biblical amplitude, the exhaustion of an endless enumeration, or the childlike insistence of a piling voice. Hemingway made it a signature: his strings of "and" give the prose the regularity of a march. Like its inverse, asyndeton, it works through deviation from the norm — it is above all a figure of rhythm.
Example
"And the evening came, and the road climbed, and nobody spoke."