Quotes About Flaws

But [the algirithm] won't have to be perfect. It will just need to be better on average than us humans. And that is not so difficult, because most people don't know themelves very well, and most people often make terrible mistakes in the most important decisions of their lives

Every political mean is imperfect."

One man commented that he and I seemed to have different definitions of gossip. He said, 'To you it seems to be discussion of personal details about people known to the conversationalists. To me, it's a discussion of the weaknesses, character flaws, and failures of third persons, so that the participants in the conversation can feel superior to them. This seems unworthy, hence gossip is bad.

There is something perfect to be found in the imperfect: the law keeps balance through the juxtaposition of beauty, which gains perfection through nurtured imperfection.

There's something ugly about the flawless.

The Missing Tile syndrome is ubiquitous. If you are overweight, all you see are flat stomachs and perfect physical specimens. If you have pimples, all you see is flawless skin. Women who have difficulty getting pregnant walk around seeing only pregnant women and babies. Nor do you need to be overweight, have pimples, be balding, or want a child to believe that you have a missing tile. You can allow any real—or merely perceived—flaw to diminish your happiness.

The only people who have no bad tendencies are dead.

According to Shakespeare, Love is blind. But it may not be the whole truth. It's possible that Love may turn a blind eye, knowingly and intentionally, to the follies and flaws that are otherwise also so harmless. In my view, only Love enables you to see the truth, and it's only Love that empowers you to find your way in the dark. So with all respect to Shakespeare, I must say that Love is not blind, most definitely and positively!

We know of our own knowledge that we are human beings, and, as such, imperfect. But we are bathed by the communications industry in a ceaseless tide of inhuman, impossible perfection.

Public scandals are America's favorite parlor sport. Learning about the flaws and misdeeds of the rich and famous seems to satisfy our egalitarian yearnings.

Life did not intend to make us perfect. Whoever is perfect belongs in a museum.

They had killed themselves over our dying forests, over manatees maimed by propellers as they surfaced to drink from garden hoses; they had killed themselves at the sight of used tires stacked higher than the pyramids; they had killed themselves over the failure to find a love none of us could ever be. In the end, the tortures tearing the Lisbon girls pointed to a simple reasoned refusal to accept the world as it was handed down to them, so full of flaws.

But Comey and company came to realize—as others would soon learn in the crucible of Donald Trump's presidency—that they had no idea of the magnitude of his flaws, of his narcissism, sociopathy, and ignorance. Trump's only concern was his feral self-interest, his only belief was that those around him existed to serve him.

Sometimes the things that make us all wrong is the thing that make us perfect

As her gaze traveled over the faces on the other side, she realized that it wasn't only a person's strengths but their flaws, that made them truly beautiful.

My bugs don't have bugs.

Stan Spray, a Sandia engineer who burned, crushed, and routinely tortured nuclear weapon components to discover their flaws

U?omno?? polega na tym, ?e cz?owiek ma wady, lecz nie stara si? ich poprawi?.

I'm far from perfect, but I'll be perfect for that imperfect person that's perfect for me.

This is my gift to you, this story that is also a song, these words that are a part of Fokir. Such flaws as there are in my rendition of it I do not regret, for perhaps they will prevent me from fading from sight, as a good translator should. For once, I shall be glad if my imperfections render me visible.

People who have no weaknesses are terrible; there is no way of taking advantage of them.

After years of hearing my father rant at my flaws, one loss has caused me to take up his rant. I've internalized my father—his impatience, his perfectionism, his rage—until his voice doesn't just feel like my own, it is my own. I no longer need my father to torture me. From this day on, I can do it all by myself.

As a newcomer I felt that this was indeed a blessed place, capable of unabashedly advertising its flaws, fearing no ridicule and no criticism. That, in essence, is the opposite of provincialism. The great cities of the world are not provincial: They invite complexity, not propaganda.

It's such a weird thing: to sit and look at yourself is so distracting to the psyche. It would be like me standing in front of a mirror and looking at myself all day, trying to find a flaw.