One sentence

I wrote this sentence as part of a rebranding of a product line:

Imagine starting from scratch, getting everyone involved, trying every combination of softwoods, hardwoods and post-consumer fiber and you don't stop until you can go to the customer and say, here's a beautifully formed paper that invites you to hold it a little closer, a little longer, and with a little extra fondness.

Structurally, there's a lot going on here. You start by advising unknown numbers of readers-in-waiting to dust off their shriveled imaginations, and then you swerve dangerously and possibly illegally out of the imperative sentence you started and into the declarative clause that begins with "and you don't stop until you can go to the customer," only to brake hard and skid sideways across the lawns of beauty and intimacy before coming to rest with a heave and a sigh in front of a word that you have never in all these years invited to the corporate dance: fondness. It's a sentence I like to revisit from time to time.