“Wisteria Ling,” a familiar voice shouted. “I challenge you.”Sariil stood there, one finger pointed at Wisteria.“To a dance? Sariil, I don’t think you quite understand this assignment,” Wisteria said, though she was amused.“Backing down, are you? Seems the great Wisteria Ling is afraid after our last encounter,” Sariil gloated.“Ugh,” Wisteria said, by way of acceptance.”

“In pale moonlight / the wisteria's scent / comes from far away.”

“If like the leaf of the wisteria through which the sun darts his rays transparently you give your heart to me, I will no longer distrust you”

“Wisteria is my favorite flowering vine. Do you know why?'I shook my head. 'No, ma'am.''Because it's strong -- just like me.”

“She offered her mouth to him, as if enchanted. A Persian princess, a little Indian, a fox, a morning glory, a lovely wisteria--it always pleased them when you told them they looked like something, like something else.”

“So are you turning out like them? Do you still write and draw?""yeah, but I don't do anything personnal or profound. My parents take life way to seriousely. I lke to make people laugh. I had a regular cartoon feature in the school news paper and created some for the year book. Social satire stuff. I've done a couple of political cartoons for wisteria's paper and just got one accepted in Easton's, which has a much bigger circulation. Impressed?”