imperfection

We love the imperfect shapes in nature and in the works of art, look for an intentional error as a sign of the golden key and sincerity found in true mastery.

I believe that the best leadership is loud authenticity. That is what the world needs now. We don__ need more plastic, Photoshopped perfection. I don__ want people to look at me and wish they could be me. I want people to be more accepting of their own failures, imperfections, and struggles because they are inspired by how I accept my own.

But oh, the perils of leadership in a species so anxious to be told what to do. How little they knew of what they created by their demands. Leaders made mistakes. And those mistakes, amplified by the numbers who followed without questioning, moved inevitably toward great disasters.

I live with the hope that one day, someone, will look into my eyes and see the deepness of my soul, and all the suffering and struggles will finally make sense to the person that can see behind all the imperfections and dust that's been pilled up in all these years. I've had my turns at trying to love people, but it never turned out as planned and I've failed in keeping someone next to me, simply because you can't force someone to be by your side if it's not meant to be, and I've grown to accept that and not fight against it. I've been selfish for far too long in trying to cling on to someone, and I believe nobody is perfect.. But as long as I still breathe, I'm willing to let people come into my life, play their part in my life's plan and then let go if it's necessary. Nothing can last forever and it's something we grow to accept. Let time do its' thing and don't get too attached, that's all I can do.

I believe that the measure of my soul is my capacity to love imperfect people.

But Perfection never appealed to me.It's the beauty and honesty behind imperfections, that I fall in love with.

There is something perfect to be found in the imperfect: the law keeps balance through the juxtaposition of beauty, which gains perfection through nurtured imperfection.

At that moment the universe appeared to me a vast machine constructed only to produce evil. I almost doubted the goodness of God, in not annihilating man on the day he first sinned. "The world should have been destroyed," I said, "crushed as I crush this reptile which has done nothing in its life but render all that it touches as disgusting as itself." I had scarcely removed my foot from the poor insect when, like a censoring angel sent from heaven, there came fluttering through the trees a butterfly with large wings of lustrous gold and purple. It shone but a moment before my eyes; then, rising among the leaves, it vanished into the height of the azure vault. I was mute, but an inner voice said to me, "Let not the creature judge his Creator; here is a symbol of the world to come. As the ugly caterpillar is the origin of the splendid butterfly, so this globe is the embryo of a new heaven and a new earth whose poorest beauty will infinitely exceed your mortal imagination. And when you see the magnificent result of that which seems so base to you now, how you will scorn your blind presumption, in accusing Omniscience for not having made nature perish in her infancy.God is the god of justice and mercy; then surely, every grief that he inflicts on his creatures, be they human or animal, rational or irrational, every suffering of our unhappy nature is only a seed of that divine harvest which will be gathered when, Sin having spent its last drop of venom, Death having launched its final shaft, both will perish on the pyre of a universe in flames and leave their ancient victims to an eternal empire of happiness and glory.

How very lovable her face was to him. Yet there was nothing ethereal about it; all was real vitality, real warmth, real incarnation. And it was in her mouth that this culminated. Eyes almost as deep and speaking he had seen before, and cheeks perhaps as fair; brows as arched, a chin and throat almost as shapely; her mouth he had seen nothing to equal on the face of the earth. To a young man with the least fire in him that little upward lift in the middle of her red top lip was distracting, infatuating, maddening. He had never before seen a woman__ lips and teeth which forced upon his mind with such persistent iteration the old Elizabethan simile of roses filled with snow.Perfect, he, as a lover, might have called them off-hand. But no _ they were not perfect. And it was the touch of the imperfect upon the would-be perfect that gave the sweetness, because it was that which gave the humanity.

But those who seek only reassurance from life will never be more than tourists__eeing everything and trying to possess what can only be felt.Beauty is the shadow of imperfection.

Flaws.We all have them. BUT, they are all about perception. What I consider as a flaw may not be what someone else considers as a flaw. To me, a flaws is an imperfection or a fault in MY eyes. I consider my flaws to be things that I do not like about myself and things that I would like to change.

I'm not looking for the perfect man. I'm looking for the man whose imperfections I can put up with.

I wanted to be that,The one which was vast,The one which laughed,The one which surpassed,Yes, which also collapsed.True, it was abstract.I wanted to be that.I still, want to be that!

It's always the people who strive to find, and tell you about one of your imperfections, that want to feel one step above you. The truth is their ten steps below you with nothing better to say.

If we learn to love someone for their imperfections that reflect our own, we eventually thought that even the most beautiful things are damaged

If you understand that you are not just your appearance or your physical body, you will be better equipped to handle negative feelings or imperfection regarding your outward appearance

Perfection is born of imperfection.

Are imperfections is which make we grate.