“With the blood dripping from her lips, with her blood spattered white dress, and with her pale skin, she is just a horrifyingly lovely and a breathtakingly attractive sixteen-year-old girl living in Hell. Nothing wrong with that, right?”

“She was spared the slow, steady droplets of blood that began to spatter the beds, drip, drip, drip, painting the white sheets in shocked flowers of red”

“Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold:Her skin was white as leprosy,The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold.”

“There was a basket at her feet. She reached into it and lifted out the head of a young woman, a marquise. She wore Bourbon white to her death, but wears the tricolor now - white cheeks, blue lips, red dripping from her neck. Long live the revolution.”

“She had me from Hello," I say to Zizzy."What's wrong with you dude? She never said Hell. She always welcomes us with blood dripping fangs and a horde of corpses surrounding her." Zizzy protests."Monsters have their own way to say Hello, moron. They just need someone to get it, that this is actually hello.”

“The smooth folds of her dress concealed a tumultuous heart, and her modest lips told nothing of her torment. She was in love.”