Quotes About Perfection

Agony is truth its our connection to the living I accept it as perfection and keep on existing in the now

Mathematics, rightly viewed, possesses not only truth, but supreme beauty-a beauty cold and austere ... yet sublimely pure and capable of stern perfection such as only the greatest art can show.

The more perfect the approximation to truth, the more perfect is art.

In some organizations, it is easy to say mistakes are okay when in truth it is a zero-defect organization. You will be remembered more for your mistakes than your successes in those organizations.

God is another name for human intelligence raised above all error and imperfection, and extended to all possible truth.

The lovers, appearing happy, walk, holding hands. Though it appears everything is perfect, only they know the truth.

I think it's more important to seek the truth than to try and be perfect, to be honest.

A mathematician is only perfect insofar as he is a perfect man, sensitive to the beauty of truth.

To find truth completely is to realize oneself and one's destiny, i.e. to become perfect.

The truth is, no matter how modest Steven [Sebring] is, he was obsessed with the outcome of the film [Dream of Life]. Every single frame was important to him.

The ideal itself is but truth clothed in the forms of art.

Love thy neighbor is more than a divine truth. It is a pattern for perfection.

Ordinary is an insult to excellence.

Perfect truth (symmetry) is information that doesn't change and pure randomness is a difference that doesn't make a difference.

There's no such thing as perfect. Chasing ''Perfect'' is the shortest road to not achieving it.

Perfection is a thousand mistakes behind curtains.

Her voice was so perfect a replica of her sister's as might lead one to suppose that her vocal cords had been snipped from the same line of gut in those obscure regions where such creatures are compounded.

Viewing an American University art exhibition dedicated in my honor, the last thing I expected was to be accosted by a ninety-year-old Jewish woman whose head barely reached my belt. "I like you, but I don't like everything your country does," she growled. "Excuse me, ma'am," I courteously replied, "but do you like everything your country does?" "No." She wagged her finger in my face. "But your country must be perfect.

Good novels are not written, they're rewritten!

we haven't had any accidents for months now...Everything on that island is perfectly fine.

Books aren't written, they're rewritten. Including your own. It is one of the hardest things to accept, especially after the seventh rewrite hasn't quite done it...

Everything on that island is perfectly fine.

One always has a better book in one's mind than one can manage to get onto paper.

What lives undimmed in Clarissa's mind more than three decades later is a kiss at dusk on a patch of dead grass, and a walk around the pond as mosquitoes droned in the darkening air. There is still that singular perfection, and it's perfect in part because it seemed, at the time, so clearly to promise more. Now she knows. That was the moment. There has been no other.