You say that I'm nobody, and you agree that nobody's perfect.Based on logic, I'm a perfect person according to your opinion.
You say that I'm nobody, and you agree that nobody's perfect.Based on logic, I'm a perfect person according to your opinion.
We throw away real people searching for the "perfect" person the same way that we throw ourselves away searching for our "perfect" self.
Perfection is real. It occurs when you find that other part of you, that other person, that when combined you become one, perfect being.
My confidence is in the idea that I may be wrong on this or that. No man in this life should ever have to bear the burden of perfection.
I'd been through so much, falling short again and again, and only recently had found a place where who I was, right now, was enough.
Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you.
you cross the field in the snow leaving tracks in perfect whiteness ...disturbing my placid universe...marking the landscape within me ...
We have all been expelled from the Garden, but the ones who suffer most in exile are those who are still permitted to dream of perfection.
I wanted to reject it all because I was sick of being perfect. I was so bored with normality and dreams of poster boys and tabloid covers.
Looking back, I realized that we were being raised to be schizophrenic; an appearance of perfection was more important than genuine feelings
Even when we strive for perfection, life is nothing more than an attempt to achieve it through a series of greater or smaller imperfections.
You are the most ludicrous excuse for a man I've ever known - but there isn't a centimetre of you that I don't think is perfect.
Primary purposes of a mirror: (1) To help civilized men realize their imperfections, and, (2) To help the imperfect hide their imperfections.
Here is a paradox: People who think imperfect are closer to perfection than their counterparts who claim that they're perfect or closer...
The night seemed suddenly defiled by the absence of music, as if the silence itself was injecting a sickness that only another song could cure.