Working hard for something we don't care is called stress. Working hard for something we love is called passion.
A man without passion would be like a body without a soul. Or even more grotesque, like a soul without a body.
Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
I love to work with my hands; to nail, to glue, to scour, to dig; all these satisfy a yearning in my nature for something substantial and honest.
They didn't give me any advice, and within that there's great advice. It was just love.
Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.