I am shy to admit that I have followed the advice given all those years ago by a wise archbishop to a bewildered young man: that moments of unbelief 'don't matter,' that if you return to a practice of the faith, faith will return.
I am not shy.
I did swimming, gymnastics, dance, and the acting was just a small part. I didn't have pushy parents; it wasn't forced upon me. They just said, 'See if you like it. If you do, great; if you don't, don't worry about it.' I was really fortunate to have that guidance and supportive parents.
I've always been shy.
When you're younger and traveling and visiting new countries and cities, that stuff is exciting; it's flashy, it's shiny, but I always had this separation between who I was as a person and who I was as a player.
My mom didn't ever think I would take to acting because I was a very shy, very reserved kind of child. But obviously, something changed!
I was actually pretty shy in school. My defense mechanism was to be the class clown. I remember getting into a lot of trouble for being disruptive, and I was brought in front of the headteacher, who said: 'What's going to happen to you; what are you going to do when you grow up?' and I said: 'Well, I'm obviously going to be a comedian.'
I'm a very shy, introverted person.
I don't shy away from competition.
As a reader, when the writer gets sentimental, you drift, because there's something fishy going on there. You recognize a moment that's largely about the writer and the writer's own need to believe in something that might not in fact exist. As a reader, you think, 'Where did the story go? Where did the person I'm reading about go?'
