If it was up to us every single day, then we would all have a perfect life, but stuff happens, but it's an imperfect world.
We don't wake up happy and looking absolutely perfect and feeling amazing every day, you know? We're only human. So I think, with me, I'm not really scared to let people see that - because it's real.
Perfection' is man's ultimate illusion. It simply doesn't exist in the universe.... If you are a perfectionist, you are guaranteed to be a loser in whatever you do.
When people are faced with a choice between the Northern Ireland they have got and the perfect Northern Ireland, they complain. But in the real world that isn't the choice.
As a coach, they would love to sit there and say, 'It's going to be five steps, you're going to hitch up into a perfect pocket, you're going to look at number one - no; you're going to go to number two - no.' It doesn't work that way.
Nothing too long imagined can be perfect in a wordly way.
One wants one's work to be the world, but of course it's never the world. The work is in the world; it never contains the whole thing.
I see only the ideal. But no ideals have ever been fully successful on this earth.
Families were never what you wanted them to be. We all wanted what we couldn't have: the perfect child, the doting husband, the mother who wouldn't let go. We live in our grown-up dollhouses completely unaware that, at any moment, a hand might come in and change around everything we'd become accustomed to.
I very much wanted the perfect nuclear family, and I came from the perfect nuclear family, but like so many people, that isn't the way things have worked out.
The unreal is more powerful than the real. Because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. Because it's only intangibles, ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. Stone crumbles. Wood rots. People, well, they die.
Growing up so close to New York City, I always loved going to the city, but I'd be disappointed because songs about New York always made it seem so magical and perfect, and when I was younger, I just thought it was busy and dirty.
If we have learned nothing else from the 20th century, we should at least have grasped that the more perfect the answer, the more terrifying its consequences. Incremental improvements upon unsatisfactory circumstances are the best that we can hope for, and probably all we should seek.
The country of the tourist pamphlet always is another country, an embarrassing abstraction of the desirable that, thank God, does not exist on this planet, where there are always ants and bad smells and empty Coca-Cola bottles to keep the grubby finger-print of reality upon the beautiful.
Christmas can have a real melancholy aspect, 'cause it packages itself as this idea of perfect family cohesion and love, and you're always going to come up short when you measure your personal life against the idealized personal lives that are constantly thrust in our faces, primarily by TV commercials.
I grew up watching YouTube and it was tough feeling like everyone I watched had a perfect life. I couldn't help but feel that my life sucked when I watched their videos.
I'd begun to realize that there was an unspoken predjudice among book-learned people, a secret conviction they all seemed to share, that life as we know it is an imperfect vision of reality, and that only art, like a pair of reading glasses can correct it.
Utopias rest on the fallacy that perfection is a legitimate goal of human existence.
Man is imperfect. The reality he creates is always endangered by man.
The wishes might not come true the way you think they will, not everything will be perfect, but love will come because it always does, because why else would it exist and it will make everything hurt a little less. You just have to believe in yourself.
Do I post pictures of my overflowing laundry basket or the dirty dishes by the sink? No, I'll probably post a pic of the finished meal looking pretty. We're all skewed in what we show.
