Quotes About Perfection

If she packaged the perfect Facebook life, maybe she would start to believe it herself.

Today would be perfect in every way. The Facebook photos wouldn't lie. So much joy. Her life had so much so joy. That was an actual verifiable fact.

The house was literally perfect now. Instead of being thrilling, that suddenly seemed depressing.

An attractive, elegant, slim woman. The sort of woman she never thought it was possible for her to be. She had become one of those women, those other women, who had seemed too perfectly put together to be real.

The fact was that some people were so unacceptably, hurtfully, beautiful, it made you feel ashamed. Your inferiority was right there on display for the world to see.

Cecelia turned her gaze away from the girls and looked at the shimmer blue of their kidney shaped swimming pool, with its powerful underwater light, the perfect symbol of suburban bliss, except for that strange intermit sound like a baby choking that was coming from the pool filter.

she was trying to be the perfect mother-in-law, but really, when you didn't let a woman help, it was a way of keeping her at a distance, of letting her know that she wasn't family, of saying I don't like you enough to let you into my kitchen.

to have reached perfection that the seeds of its decay begin to germinate.

It is a dangerous thing for the perfecting of our minds to gain applause by works that do not call forth the whole of our energies; for in that case one generally comes to a standstill.

This, at last, was where things were as they ought to be. Everything was in its place -- the tree, the earth underneath, the rock, the moss. In autumn, it would be right; in winter under the snow, it would be perfect in its wintriness. Spring would come again and miracle within miracle would unfold, each at its special pace, some things having died off, some sprouting in their first spring, but all of equal and utter rightness.

Swagga unflawed.

Damn she bad, damn she thick, and I may not know perfect but damn she it.

They all looked like a shampoo commercial, healthy and clear-skinned, perfectly proportioned, a group of handsome young men. Their clothes hung on them like they were glad to be gracing such supermodels.

And yet it was not authentic, of course, because no real boardwalk of 1910 had been this perfect. It was like a fondly remembered nostalgic confection, a past sanitized of its imperfections, buttressed by an arsenal of hidden technology.

In revision, as a rough rule, if the beginning can be cut, cut it. And if any passage sticks out in some way, leaves the main trajectory, could possibly come out — take it out and see what the story looks like that way. Often a cut that seemed sure to leave a terrible hole joins up without a seam. It's as if the story, the work itself, has a shape it's trying to achieve, and will take that shape if you'll only clear away the verbiage.

If you're looking for Mr. Perfect, you"re going to spend your whole life being disappointed, because he doesn"t exist. You have to get the best deal you can, but there will always be problems.

Hay algo especialmente terrible en el hecho de que te digan una y otra vez que tienes la vida más maravillosa del mundo y que ni siquiera así esa vida mejore y siga siendo una mierda.

Imagine," she said, her face turning serious for a moment, "imagine if something happened to one of us and there was no Easter egg hunt next year, imagine if everything stopped being perfect—you would wish so hard that you'd taken part today . . .

Freddie couldn't help himself sometimes. His dad was just so fucking perfect. Or at least that was the overriding narrative. Amazing Tom Fitzwilliam. Isn't he handsome? Isn't he clever? Isn't he charming? Isn't he tall? Hasn't he got an enormously huge dick? Well, no one had ever actually said that, but he did. Freddie had seen it.

She hadn't missed out on anything: there was always food and holidays abroad and shopping trips to Oxford Street and takeaways on Friday nights; there was always enough of everything. Her life was perfect. But it was matte, not gloss.

I understand now that my soul is my power, not perfection or my ego. I continue to teach this to my children, despite their glamorous careers. If we can maintain our core values, the exteriors take second place and become a gift, a source of gratitude.

The philosophy at Valve and Gearbox is that if things can't be done better, they shouldn't be done at all.

The Vancouver Olympics was the first competition where I completed the short and free programs without any mistakes, and that in itself was a huge achievement.

Americans will not buy irregular-looking or oddly shaped vegetables!