“Your tangerine of electricity is ripe and on a vine!”

“In the tangerine haze you stood
bathed in the morning sun
coming undone
in the tangerine haze
you take me hostage
as we play in the tangerine haze.”

“What wondrous life in this I lead!
Ripe apples drop about my head;
The luscious clusters of the vine
Upon my mouth do crush their wine;
The nectarine and curious peach
Into my hands themselves do reach;
Stumbling on melons, as I pass,
Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.”

“Upon your shattered ruins where
This vine will flourish still, as rare,
As fresh, as fragrant as of old.
Love will not crumble.”

“The gadding vine.”

“If your hate could be turned into electricity, it would light up the whole world.”

“You know how the bonds of family are, my lady… They cling as tightly as vines. And sometimes, like vines, they cling tightly enough to kill.”

“Grape on the vine… why not be crushed to make wine?”

“Tater-vine growin’ w’ile you sleep.”

“Your hands tremble as they caress and woo me…
My amber body, harmonious and young,
Is like a jasmin vine deliciously high-strung
Drunk with sunlight, with pleasure and perfume!”