Quotes About Perfection

I love editing, and I don't mind when things are edited and you can see the editing.

This perfection must come through the practice of holiness and love.

What I really search for is something that I really love hearing, something that's my own private game: If I find a song I really like, I try to do a definitive version.

For you see each day I love you more today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow. Just because you're beautiful and perfect, it's made you conceited.

My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.

Higher than the perfect song For which love longeth, Is the tender fear of wrong, That never wrongeth.

We have to create perfection through love

When we are such as He can love without impediment, we shall in fact be happy.

I am perfect as I am. Everything in my life is working just the way it should. I am loved, and I am love.

My advice to writers: thank goodness we can revise and adjust and tighten and rethink before going public with our words. Revision is our friend. Our best friend. I love revision.

Let him have all the perfections in the world, I think it ought not to be set down as certain that a man must be acceptable to every woman he may happen to like himself.

Their fingers seemed to fit together in just the right way- effortlessly clasped, like perfect complements.

You think I'm perfect, but I feel like a songbird trapped in a cage.

Perfect people make for boring novels.

Mr. Right' is usually two or eight men.

ever there was a woman who was all perfection, that one is my poor wronged darling.

A child should never even think about being a good son. A parent decides that fate for the child. The parent encourages that. Not the child himself. And the perfect dad? I shudder at thinking what that may be.

outrage gets clicks, outrage can make your voice heard above the deafening din of voices squalling over one another in this nightmarish new culture—and the outrage is often tied to a lunacy demanding human perfection, spotless citizens, clean and likable

This moment was perfect, regardless of what had come before and what would come tomorrow. He

Nature commits no errors; right and wrong are human categories.

Yeah? How was I? You were . . . kind of perfect I say Kind of? Alec throws his hands out to his sides, pretending to be offended. Can I try again? I'd hate for my reputation to be spoiled by a 'kind of.

would be if someone came to find me.. if I froze in the snow with angel wings pressed into the ground.. my lips a pretty purple-blue.. my eyelids pink and my skin pale.. how beautiful they would say I was.. how perfect.

I close my eyes.. think of how beautiful it would be if someone came to find me.. if I froze in the snow with angel wings pressed into the ground.. my lips a pretty purple-blue.. my eyelids pink and my skin pale.. how beautiful they would say I was.. how perfect.

The parasite of art, the virus of art, never ceases to gnaw awat at your brain, never ceases to torture you with the knowledge that whatever you're doing could be done more beautifully, more powerfully, more stirringly, more disturbingly, more deeply.