Quotes About Imperfection

I don't want to make fictional characters who are perfect - that's a vanilla situation - but the fact is you are allowed to more carefully select and curate what it is you're going to explore.

We all feel disabled in some way. We all feel imperfect. It's hard to be looked at for various reasons.

I see people having fits because their coffee is too hot or their baked potato is too cold, or some random something is imperfect and somebody can be blamed for it. These people can fly off the handle and nobody says, 'Too much beef will do that to a person.' If it's a vegan: a clear case of alfalfa sprout poisoning.

No one finds it interesting to look at the person who is perfect all the time. They have no flaws. Flaws are what open us up to another person to show that we are not having a veneer, a fake sort of exterior.

It is a distortion, with something profoundly disloyal about it, to picture the human being as a teetering, fallible contraption, always needing watching and patching, always on the verge of flapping to pieces.

Not everything we write will be great. That's natural.

What a frail thing a human being is—and without the Passenger, that is all I was, a poor imitation of a human being. Weak, soft, slow and stupid, unseeing, unhearing and unaware, helpless, hopeless, and harried.

At least you can be grateful," Brian said, "that I am not the type who insists on saying, told you so." "Didn't you just say it?" I asked him. "Nobody's perfect," he said, and put the car in gear. "What now?

But a large part of learning to be an adult is admitting to yourself that nothing is ever perfect. We all have to sacrifice small indulgences from time to time in order to achieve our larger goals, and I would just have to behave like a grown-up and accept that the results were more important than my petty personal gratification.

You don't have to be "perfect" at doing the meditation. There is nothing to attain. Just doing the practices is good enough.

Ma már nem érdekel az örökké tartó hírnév, és az se, hogy tökéletes könyvet írjak. Megelégszem azzal, ha csak emléket állít képtelen életemnek.

worry that younger women are striving so hard to present a compelling story via images that they're ignoring the substance that makes the story true. Ultimately, they're going to end up really bitter later in life (and not the good kind of bitter that sells books). My message to these women is this—if you want to avoid regrets later, give yourselves a break now and just be real. Enjoy the mess. Revel in the imperfection.

We are all perfect in our own, magnificent, fucked-up ways. Laugh at yourself. Love yourself and others. Rejoice in the cosmic ridiculousness.

If you wait until you are perfect and free of conflicts, you will never change anything in the world.

Nitko nije savršen. Svi koji su ikada ikoga voljeli morali su prije?i preko ne?ega.

You don't get perfect-but I was going to grab this happiness and hold it as tightly as I could. I was going to enjoy it for as long as it lasted.

People don't like to see things that aren't perfect. It reminds them of what could go wrong in their own lives, I guess.

And I could see her for what she was... Someone who wasn't invincible.. Someone who had flaws, and things she wanted.

ma, già, ogni cosa ha i suoi difetti, come disse quel tale quando gli morì la suocera e dovette pagare le spese dei funerali.

What you have to do, Veronica, is, with a full heart, to praise Heaven that this is not a perfect world. If it were I doubt very much, Veronica, your being here. That you are here happy and thriving proves that all is not as it should be.

Peace and harmony do not require perfection. Thank goodness for that—because life so often seems to be an itch here, a glitch there, a mess waiting to happen. Harmony is flexible. It bends with imperfection. So should you.

Okay, so you're not perfect. Who is? Sure, Susan makes sense. But my heart doesn't care about sense. My heart never says: _Why?_ Only: _Who?_

OK, so you're not perfect. Who is?

happy to no longer expect the dead perfection of museum art, but embrace the sweet lovely mess that is real life.