She’d make for a jazzy week-end, but she’d be wearing for a steady diet. - Raymond Chandler

Her eyes were wide-set and there was thinking room between them. Their color was lapis-lazuli blue and the color of her hair was dusky red, like a fire under control but still dangerous. She was too tall to be cute. She wore plenty of make-up in the right places and the cigarette she was poking at me had a built-on mouthpiece about three inches long. She didn't look hard, but she looked as if she had heard all the answers and remembered the ones she thought she might be able to use sometime.

down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid...

A slice of spumoni wouldn't have melted on her now.