I'm the old type setter who gets his blood poisoned from the ink.

Ink is in the blood, as they say.

The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.

Enjoy the stillness, sweet snail! Savor the spring breeze while it still means something! Soon enough, like summer tempests your tears will come!

The ink of the scholar is more sacred than the blood of the martyr

A viper stung a Cappadocian's hide, and poisoned by his blood that instant died