Work (n.) has no line between hand and head in the world of technical objects.
Work (n.) exists only where a person must lend his own body as the tool, because no object can do the mediating for him.
A Work (n.) does not come from the maker's human essence, and it is not a power from outside pouring itself through a hollowed-out maker either.
A Work (n.) is nothing in itself for Eckhart; only the will behind it counts, a will no outer failure can forestall.
Work (n.) hides the relation to show the terms: eyes on matter and form, never on the taking of form between them.
Work (n.) and action are alike in one respect: in both the end outranks the means, and so means are always the minor partner of results.
Work (n.) is the craftsman's only way to express a knowledge that cannot be put into words — to refuse it would be to hide his light under a bushel.
Work (n.) clings to the worker, and through him to the nature he works on; a machine's mediation, by contrast, comes loose and can be passed to someone else.
Work (n.) in pieces is the worker's daily fate, and DIY is its compensation: at night a whole project from one origin to its end.
A Work (n.) gives an ephemeral gesture a future: the imprint of a board in concrete, which fills the voids, becomes part of a system that lasts as long as the work does.