A Quote by Evangeline Lilly

We decided to have the baby at home because we wanted it to be a natural birth, and it turns out that it was 30 hours of natural. Eight hours of pushing - that's the part that men don't understand. Women go, 'Oh, dear, oh, dear God, eight hours of pushing?' And the men are like, 'Okay, eight hours of pushing.'
It's a shame that the only thing a man can do for eight hours a day is work. He can't eat for eight hours; he can't drink for eight hours; he can't make love for eight hours. The only thing a man can do for eight hours is work.
Eight hours of work, eight hours of play, eight hours of sleep - eight hours a day!
Work eight hours and sleep eight hours, and make sure that they are not the same eight hours.
Eight hours work, eight hours sleep, and eight hours recreation - Brigham Young
I say, you work eight hours, and you sleep eight hours - be sure they're not the same eight hours.
Work eight hours and sleep eight hours and make sure that they are not the same hours.
Even when you're being safe, eight hours of choreography makes you look like you've been through a war. It's hard. It's like playing hockey for eight hours.
My life is ticking away one subway token at a time - a never ending pirouette of arriving and departing, pushing through turnstiles, nodding goodbye and hello. In eight hours I'll be allowed to turn around and go home.
I did 'Slither,' so I've done seven hours in the makeup chair. So two hours for zombie makeup is like nothing. That's a walk in the park for me. When you do seven-hour makeup and then eight hours of work, you're thinking, 'Oh God, what did this do to me?' You're under that rubber forever. It's crazy.
I wasn't obsessed by magic. People say, 'How you can you claim you practiced eight hours a day and weren't obsessed?' Well, people go to a job they don't even like for eight hours a day; it's not obsessive if it's something you like.
One of the saddest things is that the only thing that a man can do for eight hours a day, day after day, is work. You can't eat...nor make love for eight hours...
I'm not someone who can be depended one five days a week. Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday? I don't even get out of bed five days in a row-I often don't remember to eat five days in a row. Reporting to a workplace, where I should need to stay for eight hours-eight big hours outside my home- was unfeasible.
After about five hours of pushing, my midwife and my birthing assistant said, 'You know, we have a few suggestions.' And I was like, 'Really? After five hours of pushing you have a few suggestions? You couldn't have told me five minutes in?'
For disappearing acts, it's hard to beat what happens to the eight hours supposedly left after eight of sleep and eight of work.
The next morning I woke up at oh eight oh oh hours, my brothers, and as I still felt shagged and fagged and fashed and bashed and my glazzies were stuck together real horrorshow with sleepglue, I thought I would not go to school.
It was really sad Bobby Neuwirth's and my affair. The only true, passionate, and lasting love scene, and I practically ended up in the psychopathic ward. I had really learned about sex from him, making love, loving, giving. It just completely blew my mind it drove me insane. I was like a sex slave to this man. I could make love for forty-eight hours, forty-eight hours, forty-eight hours, without getting tired. But the minute he left me alone, I felt so empty and lost that I would start popping pills.
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