I write with the blood that goes to the ends of my fingers, and it is a very sensuous act.
— A. S. Byatt, Paris Review
The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.
There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. Ernest Hemingway
I write so slowly that I could write in my own blood without hurting myself.
— Fran Lebowitz, Paris Review