"The words of magic, O my brothers: Tits. Boobs. Teats. Bazooms. Thingumbobs.
Knockers. Headlights. Grapefruits. Cantaloupes. A pair that stick out like Mussolini's balcony. A pair that would make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window." That's the way this book begins and that is what it is all about-breasts. It's a pervasive subject. In his masterful blend of history and humor, erudition and erotica, author Robert A. Wilson writes, "There is no art, no poetry, no song, no human expression in which the female breast is not celebrated and adored. Its forms appear disguised but ,rrr.ri-niable in architecture, in pottery, in the design;rf cathedrals and temples, in mystic ..rmlols 1i,'
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