Quotes About Imperfection

Io non amo la gente perfetta, quelli che non sono mai caduti, che non hanno inciampato. La loro è una virtù spenta, di poco valore. A loro non si è svelata la bellezza della vita.»

The girl at her music sits in another sort of light,the fitful,overcast light of lie,by which we see ourselves and others only imprefectly, and seldom..-Girl,Interrupted

The girl at her music sits in another sort of light, the fitful, overcast light of life, by which we see ourselves and others only imperfectly, and seldom.

No matter how we move forward, there's always going to be that crack there that didn't exist before. That's what hurts.

Not being perfect hurts.

I have this demon who wants me to run away screaming if I am going to be flawed, fallible. It wants me to think I'm so good I must be perfect. Or nothing. I am, on the contrary, something: a being who gets tired, has shyness to fight, has more trouble than most facing people easily. If I get through this year, kicking my demon down when it comes up, I'll be able, piece by piece, to face the field of life, instead of running from it the minute it hurts.

I have often fought, fought & won, not perfection, but an acceptance of myself as having a right to live on my own human, fallible terms.

But perhaps the most overlooked feature of her life was that she was human, and therefore fallible.

Trying to use words, and every attempt Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure Because one has only learnt to get the better of words For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate With shabby equipment always deteriorating In the general mess of imprecision of feeling

I hope there's something wrong me. Because if there isn't something wrong me it means there's something wrong with the world. That's terrifying. So I'd like to think there's something wrong with me that can be made right.

But sometimes imperfect tools lead us toward perfect ends.

One day God felt he ought to give his workshop a spring clean... It was amazing what ragged bits and pieces came from under his workbench as he swept. Beginnings of creatures, bits that looked useful but had seemed wrong, ideas he'd mislaid and forgotten... There was even a tiny lump of sun. He scratched his head. What could be done with all this rubbish?

Puddles were weak. Puddles were transparent, with all their secrets and imperfections clearly visible to observers standing above them. Puddles could be stepped on and splashed through and ruined.

Of course I'm going to forgive you. How can I not? Life is rough for everyone, and it's complicated. It's full of hairpin turns we don't see coming. You know that better than anyone. You suffered a terrible trauma. And we all make mistakes. Mom certainly wasn't perfect. She left a fair bit of destruction in her path." "Yes, but she gave me you." "And she gave me you.

Everything's perfect." I want to kick myself for using that word, because nothing's ever perfect.

The best literature is always a take [in the musical sense]; there is an implicit risk in its execution, a margin of danger that is the pleasure of the flight, of the love, carrying with it a tangible loss but also a total engagement that, on another level, lends the theater its unparalleled imperfection faced with the perfection of film. I don't want to write anything but takes.

A lot of life, Michael had learned, came down to trying to fix things that weren't fixable.

That's when it struck me: how gorgeous we all were, even with cellulite (saw a lot of that) and stretch marks, scars and tattoos. Let me just say this, not single body was perfect, not even the fittest of women there.

Let the glossy spreads have their heart-stopping, head-turning kind of beauty. Give me the heart-filling beauty instead. Jolie laide, that's what I would choose. Flawed, we're truly interesting, truly memorable, and yes, truly beautiful.

This way of thinking suggests that nothing is perfection - or at least, perfect symmetry, which to many physicists is the same thing. Nothing is perfect, but not very interesting.

Your people are not unwise, after all: love of the perfect Deity may prevent us from loving imperfect man! But God's will is to restore the lost; and that can't be done without loving them.

The people turn out to be—well, people; a collective noun for all those individual men and women, none of them perfect, some of them downright vicious, most of them monumentally stupid. As stupid as the emperor, the great hereditary lords, the priestly hierarchs, the General Staff and the Lords of the Admiralty, the merchant princes and the organised crime barons.

A che serve immaginare un mondo in cui non solo ottieni tutto ciò che vuoi, ma non devi nemmeno correre rischi? La vita non è mai perfetta come nei sogni a occhi aperti.

I guess it depends on whether you want perfect. I hear some girls prefer their boyfriends a little more flawed and troubled.", Loving Summer by Kailin Gow