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196 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1962
...every woman was beautiful, it was a simple matter of recognizing one's personality and complementing it with a dress that had shimmer, substance and smash.
You expect to be the quintessence of perfection and perfection doesn't exist, you know that?
Everyone wants to be what he isn't. It's the way of the world.
To compliment your naked beauty, I must have silk of a most fantastic shade that plays on the undiscovered tones of in-between reds and greens and yellows. It must have the translucent amber of centuries-old Amontillado, the ephemeral glitter of green in the wingtips of dragonflies, the elusive wisp of gray on the sulphurous smoke of a dying volcano.