"The parchment girl looks at herself in the mirror, her parchment skin covering her white bones, her blood hair caking her frail head, her flint eyes glaring at the world. The ink and venom pulse under her parchment-skin, and she knows that she has no blood left, and that her hands are already dripping with ink and venom and red blood."

The story of Diaval, from his birth to post-movie

There's a hole that leads to a river, and there's a ferryman, but you have to pay. It's just a dollar or two: not much, but enough, and all you have to do is pay.