Quotes About Perfection

I did not think them perfect; no man may be a hero to his valet or political consultant.

The translucence that comes when life hardens into a bead of such cruel perfection you see it with the purest clarity. Everything suddenly there--life as it truly is, enormous, appalling, devastating. You see the great sinkholes it makes in people and the harrowing lengths to which love will go to fill them.

Why should God's perfection be based on having an unchanging nature?" I asked. "Isn't flexibility more perfect than stasis?

Thomas argued that if these strange animals were truly extinct, it implied poor planning on God's part, threatening the ideal of God's perfection, therefore, such creatures must still be alive in remote places on earth. I argued that even God should be allowed to change his mind. "Why should God's perfection be based on having an unchanging

even God should be allowed to change his mind. "Why should God's perfection be based on having an unchanging nature?" I asked. "Isn't flexibility more perfect than stasis?

The path has a cottage garden on both sides; clumps of old-fashioned flowers ran all over each other: lamb's ear, mint, & rhubarb, roses, forget-me-nots, bleeding hearts & wisteria. I walked very slowly, savoring. At the end of the slate path was the house, very recognizable now... As nearly perfect a little place as I ever lived in is how Beatrix described it.

My one aim was to do a thing well and to excel if possible.

The technical afterthoughts of a truly great one can appear to be divine inspiration to the lesser artist. When

All human language could be determined through this medium, which could not be expressed in any human language, and that was its perfection. The more a thing was clicked, the more perfect that thing would be. We would equate ourselves with that.

Without monstrous distortions, I was slowly learning, without lies and hypocrisy, one cannot have the idealized American life I so longed for. Perfection was marred only by those corruptions necessary to its enterprise.

Imagine if you succeeded in making the world perfect for your children what a shock the rest of life would be for them.

Circles are absolutely vital.

Cuál es la tarea de todo sistema escolar superior? Hacer del hombre una máquina. ¿Cuál es el medio para ello? El hombre tiene que aburrirse. ¿Cómo se consigue eso? Con el concepto de deber. ¿Quién es su modelo en esto? El filólogo: este enseña a ser un empollón ¿Quién es el hombre perfecto? El funcionario estatal…(

The flavor the came to me was a luscious Sincerest peach that I once had in California. This heirloom variety needed time to ripen on the tree to achieve its peak flavor. Unlike other peaches that were picked unripe so they would ship more easily, Sincerest peaches had to be eaten right away. But they were worth it- fragrant, luscious, juice-dripping-down-your-chin perfection.

Don't condemn what another sees as perfection, just because it doesn't fit your ideals. You want that respect from them, so be the first to give it when considering their position." With

The story I am writing exists, written in absolutely perfect fashion, some place, in the air. All I must do is find it, and copy it.

Paradise does not exist, but we must nonetheless strive to be worthy of it.

It's so beautifully arranged on the plate — you know someone's fingers have been all over it.

It's so beautifully arranged on the plate - you know someone's fingers have been all over it.

You've seen what your perfect self looks like in the MEEP, so when you look in the mirror now, all you see are your flaws.

All I meant was that people take their same old lives wherever they go. No place is perfect enough to strip you of that. And some places have a way of magnifying your demons, or of, I don't know, giving them pep pills.

People take their same old lives wherever they go. No place is perfect enough to strip you of that.

Look at me," John gasped. "I cannot remember the last time I allowed myself to be so happy. I smile all day long without knowing why. I climbed a bloody tree, vaulted through your window, and here I am—laughing.It's the middle of the night, and yet here I am with you. Dancing at midnight, holding perfection in my arms." -John Blackwood to Arabella Blydon