There's no such thing as perfect writing, just like there's no such thing as perfect despair.

My son, thou canst not possess perfect liberty unless, thou wholly renounce thyself.... Keep this short and complete saying: forsake all and thou shalt find all.

If you want to be perfect, go and sell what you have, give to the poor and come and follow me. And you will have treasure in Heaven.

Son of Being! With the hands of power I made thee and with the fingers of strength I created thee; and within thee have I placed the essence of My light. Be thou content with it and seek naught else, for My work is perfect and My command is binding. Question is not, nor have a doubt thereof.

You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect—you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break—her heart. So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there.

It is better to follow one's own nature, though defective than to imitate another's virtue, which is perfect.