The accent of a man's native country remains in his mind and his heart, as it does in his speech.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
The accent of one's birthplace remains in the mind and in the heart as in one's speech.
If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart.
God bless my father, but he always spoke in this continental, literary accent, probably because he was a professor of comparative literature and he made the decision to speak with distinction.
Doing an accent removes you from yourself and reminds you, every instant, that you're playing a part.
When my grandfather died, I started adopting some of his accents, to sort of remind myself of him. A homage. He was a war hero, and he was really great with his hands.
Foreign languages are another favourite topic, and as these men are bilingual they have a fair notion of what it means to speak and think in many different idioms.
To be honest, accents are one of those things for me, personally, that usually come quite naturally by just listening to the people.
When you speak in another accent, it affects you. You can't help but be changed by it.
The love of their country is with them only a mode of flattering its master; as soon as they think that master can no longer hear, they speak of everything with a frankness which is the more startling because those who listen to it become responsible.
When the heart speaks, its language is the same under all latitudes.