Answer:
My life is often a volume of grief, your help is needed to turn a new leaf. Stiff is my spine and my body is pale. But I'm always ready to tell a tale.
It is by nature, soft as silk; A puffy cloud, white as milk; Snow tops this tropical crop; The dirtiest part of a mop
Lighter than what I am made of, More of me is hidden Than is seen.
My teeth are sharp, my back is straight, to cut things up it is my fate.
I am cracked by Indiana Jones. What am I?
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?