Quotes About Perfection

It seems silly now, but I was so worried you weren't the perfect man of my dreams." "No one is perfect," he said quietly. "I know." She leaned over and planted an impulsive kiss on his cheek. "You're the imperfect man of my heart, and that's even better.

They all turned to the dark-haired woman standing quietly to the side and slightly behind Aunt Charlotte. She was, in a word, gorgeous. Everything about her was perfection, from her shiny hair to her milky-white skin. Her face was heart-shaped, her lips full and pink, and her eyelashes were so long that Honoria thought they must touch her brows if she opened her eyes too wide. "Well," Honoria murmured to Iris, "at least no one will be looking at us.

She looked delighted by the prospect. Delighted that he might find the perfect woman. And there it was. His faith in a higher power reaffirmed. Truly, moments of this ironic perfection could not come about by accident.

And her lips, he realized now that she wasn't hurling insults at him, were utter perfection, full and pink, and touched with just the right sort of curve. They seemed to tell a man that she knew things, that she knew how to laugh, and if he only laid down his soul for her, she would light up his world with a single smile. Sarah Pleinsworth. Good God, had he lost his mind?

The people here can't know that joy. Their days are always perfect. Can one appreciate perfection when it is a constant in one's life?

Apakah orang bisa menghargai kesempurnaan bila hal itu merupakan sesuatu yang konstan dalam hidup mereka?

Before I met you I was only half-alive... And now?... 'Now' suddenly means happiness, and joy, and a wife I adore... 'Now' doesn't even compare to tomorrow. And tomorrow couldn't possibly compete with the next day. As perfect as I feel this very moment, tomorrow is going to be even better... every day I'm going to love you more. I promise you that.

She just needed someone perfect for her.

Right here, right now, in this moment, in this garden, you're perfect.

It took only a moment to realize that he put all of Michelangelo's statues to shame.

If I was doing something that I really, really enjoyed I want to be perfect at it and not make mistakes and do everything right. And when inevitably I made mistakes, because that's what humans do, I would get very angry, very disappointed, very discouraged.

Maybe we should admit that our science is not as perfect as we would like to believe and that nature is ultimately inexplicable and beyond our control.

Chefs are artists, and I couldn't be happy with my art if I was forced to use cheap ingredients.

I've got that personality where I've always been determined. As a dancer, I was constantly improving and perfecting. I guess it's innate.

You'll go insane if you try to have a picture-book house.

I'm a big believer in honesty, and in this Instagram world, it's important to remember that not everyone's lives are perfect.

Disco B still rolls with me now. He's still doing his thing. He does clubs in different places. He was very instrumental in helping me perfect my craft.

Costume is integral, but it clicks into place last.

My secret desire is to be an interior designer. I'd love to make houses for rich clients who can afford to do things right.

It wasn't that I actually was fat or anything, it was just that I wasn't supposed to be eating all that candy—it showed. It showed at the beach. It showed in "tight" skirts. It showed in gym. But I was never dumb enough to think I was Fat; because I wasn't, I just wasn't perfect. And I have never liked perfect things, they give me the creeps.

Although I don't ever think I'll get enough mangoes in my life, eating one in the hot rain is one of the more perfect divine interventions. Mangoes will make you forget anything but mangoes.

We were always being taken to rehearsals when we were little and it is probably because of that that I like rehearsals better than concerts. There is something about listening to a group of people try over and over to get it right and at last do that provides a tension of drama you don't get when they're all dressed up giving a concert.

Women fell in love with Mary. They thought of her as unattainably beautiful and adopted as many of her mannerisms as they could. It didn't matter to them that she lacked that element, raw and beckoning, that trailed like a vapor after Gabrielle. There was an exotic, ladylike essence in Mary that stunned women who understood just what utter waxlike, blossom perfection she was.

Your interest is in the bloody loam but what I'm after is the finished product.