Quotes About Imperfection

I don't have to be perfect with my ball-striking, because I have other things that can pick me up, that's been a big confidence boost for me, knowing I don't have to be perfect; I can still contend and have a chance to win.

Sometimes choosing to leave a mistake on a track is way cooler than going back and nailing it.

We can't be as good as we'd want to, so the question then becomes, how do we cope with our own badness?

Writers who sit down and write might judge what they're putting down, but I always just try to barf it out. I'm writing crap, but I'll put it down.

You try things creatively all the time, and while you want every one of them to be great, and you set out to do that, that's not always going to end up being the case.

Nobody's perfect. The only one that ever was, was crucified.

Not every game is going to be perfect. Not every game is going to be an interception or two or a big-bang tackle, so to say.

I hate flatscreens. I don't want to see anything in that much pixilation. I don't need to see the pimple on someone's face. I love the world through glass. The more old, dusty and tainted that glass is, the prettier and more impressionistic that is to me. I don't need to see everything perfectly. I don't like it.

I'm not good at taking pictures. I can't give a good face. I crack up.

Nobody is perfect. So for designers then to be taking chances on curvy women and not saying, 'Oh, you have to be this size to model for us' is really opening the door.

I do not look at myself every morning and think: 'Oh, my gosh, I am so perfect, so beautiful, so talented.' No, I like to make fun of myself.

Look at our Lords disciples. One denied Him one doubted Him one betrayed Him. If our Lord couldn't have perfection, how are you going to have it in city government?

You can't kill everything bad and you can't save everyone good." "I'm not sure who the good ones are anymore." "Yes you are. Because you're one. It's just sometimes hard to admit to oneself." "Fuck.

The most amazing fact about Jesus, unlike almost any other religious founder, is that he found God in disorder and imperfection—and told us that we must do the same or we would never be content on this earth.

His hands, swinging curve-fingered at his sides, looked like they were molded of brown clay by a sculptor who thought big and liked veins. His hair was brown and dry and dead, blowing around his head like a poor toupee about to fly loose. His face was a chipped chunk of concrete, with eyes of flawed onyx. His mouth was a quick stroke, bloodless. His suit coat fluttered behind him, and his arms swung easily as he walked.

He was too perfect, despite being one of the most imperfect people I knew.

Love is rarely flawless," Carter pointed out. "Humans delude themselves by thinking it has to be. It is the imperfection that makes love perfect.

It's as easy as we choose to make it," he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine. "At least, this decision is. Nothing's truly easy, Georgina. Love and life . . . they're wonderful, but they're hard. We may mess up again. We have to be strong and decide if we can still go forward, even when things aren't perfect.

And then the kissing started again. There was no avoiding it, not when we were together like this, far away from the real world of our normal lives. The setting was too perfect. He was too perfect, despite being one of the most imperfect people I knew. And honestly, we'd wasted far too much time with doubts and games. The one thing you learn from constantly having your life in danger is that you'd better not waste it.

What we had was love. We were like two halves of a whole, always ready to support each other. Neither of us was perfect, but that didn't matter. With him, I could defeat this rage that filled me. He believed I was stronger than it. And I was.

God doesn't wait for us to get ourselves polished, shined, proper, and without blemish—God comes to us and meets us and blesses us while we are still in the middle of the mess we created.

There are no perfect relationships. There are no perfect partners. Relationships by their very nature are chaotic, eventful, and challenging.

Eighty million steel juggernauts, operated by imperfect human beings at high speeds, are more destructive than war.

Few of our ancestors were perfect ladies or gentlemen; the majority of them were not even mammals.