I speak some dwarvish.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
My life often feels like a whirling dervish of kids, writing, speaking, and pastoral ministry.
As much as I converse with sages and heroes, they have very little of my love and admiration. I long for rural and domestic scene, for the warbling of birds and the prattling of my children.
In a Western, you talk more with your eyes and your actions than you do with big speeches. I love that.
God speaks to me not through the thunder and the earthquake, nor through the ocean and the stars, but through the Son of Man, and speaks in a language adapted to my imperfect sight and hearing.
I don't mind how much my Ministers talk, so long as they do what I say.
I'm not so sure I believe in dopplegangers. I just prefer to be Dane DeHaan.
Anybody who speaks quietly and shrivels up in company is unbelievably arrogant.
It is terrible to speak well and be wrong.
Well, I like how people talk. I like language. You know, Linda Richman spoke in Yiddish.
Instead of sounding pretentious, phony, or repetitive, I'd rather not speak.