A Work (n.) is a secret force and a necessity which -long before one has caught sight of it or knows its name -rules among and in the individual facets of man's destiny like an unconscious pregnancy.
Work (n.) is often done more ardently and thoughtlessly than is necessary as mode of escapism, such that we do not have leisure to stop and think.
Work (n.) is such that all great artists and thinkers are great workers.
Work (n.) uses up an extraordinary proportion of nervous force, withdrawing it from reflection, meditation, dreams, cares, love, and hatred; it dangles unimportant aims before the eyes of the worker and affords easy and regular gratification.
Work (n.) is, for almost all men in civilised countries, a means and not itself the end: they seek it for the sake of the pay.
Work (n.) is called a blessing only as an ennobling phrase for slaves.
Work (n.) is laboured at more ardently than life requires because it is even more necessary not to have leisure to stop and think; we give our heart to the state, money or science merely so as no longer to possess it ourselves.
Work (n.) can never be justly valued by merit — no one is free to choose whether or how he works — only by utility; and exploiting the worker was stupidity, exhausting the soil at the future's expense.
Work (n.) glorified is the best policeman: it uses up the nervous energy that would go into reflection, dreaming, loving and hating, and keeps everyone in bounds — praised out of fear of everything individual.
Work (n.) naturally engender, by habit, an evaluation and then a disposition; it is unnatural to expect mere evaluation to produce works — one must practice deeds, and first have some ability.
Work (n.) praised as a "blessing" is the self-glorification of slaves; utility and pleasure are slave theories of life, and incapacity for leisure their mark.
Work (n.) is no yardstick for measuring an artist — his works are his highest tidal waves, driven up by a storm, not typical of him.