Born of earth, tempered by fire, I rest within a wooden shell. I whisper thoughts I do not know, leaving marks where minds once dwell. The more I’m honed, the less I last yet greater still the work I cast.

I have two eyes but never blink, I help you see what’s far, I think. I stretch the world and bring it near, Though still, I stand and make things clear. What am I?

In your car, I'm for perfuming. While in your house, festooning. If a stay native, I never die, unless my home becomes too dry.

I have two legs but can't move on my own. I help you transport what you can't carry alone. I’m easy to push but hard to pull. I get harder to handle the more I am full.

I can be used to write a note on the refrigerator sign or I can be used to tell you where to stand. What am I?