“How can a river that rises in a black forest and discharges in a black sea be celebrated as blue?”

“I wish I knew how one is supposed to live. I wish somebody had taught me. Why do people we take for authorities when we are children let us down in this respect? Who is to tell us which is right? The cross, the crescent, the hammer and sickle, the smiling Buddha? do as you would be done by.”

“Colour is a matter of personal opinion.”

“Bridges symbolize peace and human contact.”

“A beautiful bridge is a poem.”

“We three just stared. I thought of Macbeth's witches huddled around their cauldron. How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags. What is't you do?A deed without a name.We were as quiet as the gravestones around us.”

“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.”