Quotes About Imperfection

It's a hard thing to explain, but in some ways if you're broken, you're always broken. In some ways. It's like the difference between a china mug that's lying in pieces on your floor or one that's been carefully glued back together: it might not look as pretty as a brand-new one, and you might have to be a little more careful with it, but at least you can drink out of it. It works.

Where human children have years and years in which to grow their hearts and learn to live with them while staying safe from all the troubles a heart hauls with it, a Changeling starts out raw and red and full of longing. Some small ones learn to stitch together a Coat of Scowls or a Scarf of Jokes to hide their Hearts. Some hammer up a Fort of Books to protect theirs. Some walk around naked, though no one can see it but you and I.

How often I spoilt things when I was trying so hard to do well.

Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections.

Why does it seem like there's something the matter with everything? Because there is something wrong with everything!"[2]

La poesia appare come il luogo della ricerca ideale delle "parole giuste". In realtà la poesia è proprio il luogo in cui vengono a mancare le parole. È proprio da qui, da questa insufficienza, da questa mancanza - di bellezza, di giustizia, di felicità, di coraggio e chissà di che altro - da questa miseria delle parole nel tempo della nostra vita, che inizia il movimento della poesia.

The nice thing about jazz is its imperfection….Imcompleteness distinguishes jazz from any other type of music. In classical music, for example, the score contains all the notes to be played. The performer reads it and plays the written notes, nothing less but also nothing more. His performance is all about the many different ways he can interpret those notes, but the notes are always the same. In jazz, the score in just the starting point.

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end.

Since, therefore, no man is born without faults, and he is esteemed the best whose errors are the least, let the wise man consider everything human as connected with himself for in worldly affairs there is no perfect happiness under heaven.

There is no such thing as a perfect leader. We have to learn to lead ourselves.

This is a perfect world. An imperfect world would have been terrible.

Isteže vieme, že na svete je dos? tvárí, ktoré príroda vytvorila bez dlhého uvažovania, nepoužila nijaké jemné nástroje, ako pilníky, dlátka, nebožiec, ale tesala iba nahrubo; zahnala sa sekerou a bol z toho nos, zahnala sa druhý, vznikli pery, ve?kým vrtákom vylúpla o?i, ni? neohob?ovala, a len vystr?ila na boží svet so slovami: Ži si!

None of us is perfect. There was only one perfect man who ever walked the earth, and He was the Son of God. We all have weaknesses and I guess we all make mistakes and will make mistakes in the future, but look for the virtues, the strengths, the goodness in those with whom you labor, and draw those characteristics into your own lives and make them a part of yourselves, and you will be the richer for it all the days that you live.

What is abnormal in Life stands in normal relations to Art. It is the only thing in Life that stands in normal relations to Art. A subject that is beautiful in itself gives no suggestion to the artist. It lacks imperfection. The only thing that the artist cannot see is the obvious.

We were human, mortal and fallible. We forgot, we made errors, argued ambiguities, and twisted meanings to suit our own ends.

We were human, mortal and fallible. We forgot, we made errors, argued ambiguities, and twisted meanings to suit our own ends. And in so doing, mayhap we reshaped the gods themselves.

In other words: master the form you want to operate in, get experience, be willing to be imperfect, and then develop the confidence to play within that form, to develop your own style.

Anger is a form of dishonesty. Nobody is perfect. It's a lie to expect the people around you to be perfect.

master the form you want to operate in, get experience, be willing to be imperfect, and then develop the confidence to play within that form, to develop your own style.

We are all human, and all do wrong.

If you ask people what attracted them to the person they love, they never tell you of some perfect feature that focused them on sheer surfaces but rather an imperfection that allowed them to see into their uncharted depths.

We encounter and enter our richest, most humanly defining experiences by way of a tear in the fabric of things, because we are running late, or because we recognize, across a crowded room, a face whose lack of perfection allows a unique light to shine through and to stir us with uncommon wonder.

God loves you unconditionally, as you are and not as you should be, because nobody is as they should be.