Every culture that’s ever existed has operated under the illusion that it understood 95% of reality and that the other 5% would be delivered in the next 18 months, and from Egypt forward they’ve been running around believing they had a perfect gr...
As long as reading is for us the instigator whose magic keys have opened the door to those dwelling-places deep within us that we would not have known how to enter, its role in our lives is salutary. It becomes dangerous, on the other hand, when, ins...
If you could possibly understand how precious and powerful your experience of this one lifetime as yourself is, you wouldn't be trying to go anywhere else. If you could know the perfection of time and space, You would slow each moment down To drain e...
Yet man will never be perfect until he learns to create and destroy; he does know how to destroy, and that is half the battle.
I'm going to undress you slowly so I can take in every inch of your perfect body. Holy shit, he played dirty.
In the end, perfection is just a concept - an impossibility we use to torture ourselves and that contradicts nature.
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.
His body was perfect. His parents were loaded. His grades were terrible. He was a high school girl’s dream come true.
Her rebirth stood in her mind with the clarity of a perfect diamond, the light scattering the rainbows through her body.
And they were quiet but their blood and nerves and butterflies were not—they were rampantly alive, rushing and thrumming in a wild and perfect melody, matched note for note.
You're perfect. To me you are. You always will be. When you're small you think that about your parents. When you're old, you think that about your kids. You'll see.
Like a butterfly stuck in a chrysalis, waiting for the perfect moment, I was waiting for the day I could burst forth and fly away and find my home.
You think he’s perfect and he’s safe and, in your head, he can do anything... but he can’t save you, Sara... and I can’t save you either.
Was it good to treasure the memory of a few perfect hours together? Or would I have been better off never meeting him?
The silence, she thought, was remarkable: a perfect, shimmering thing, and fragile. Like glass, if it shattered, it would never come back together again.
No one is perfect. We all need a Savior. The more honest we become about our flaws, the more we'll reach out for the grace and love of Jesus.
Deities are invented by fallible and finite beings in the hope and desire to create immortal perfection; unfortunately, such deities only reflect their creators and inspire their followers to similar imperfections.
The face and body may be perfect, but if a twisted gene or a malformed egg can produce physical monsters, may not the same process produce a malformed soul?
Learn to deal with the fact that you are not a perfect person but you are a person that deserves respect and honesty.
Before you Judge me, make sure you're Perfect.
Don't let yourself slip and get any perfect characters... keep them people, people, people, and don't let them get to be symbols.
