The largely disseminated thought that nobody is/ can be perfect is so boring. I think every fucking body is (or can be if really try) perfect. Certainly not ~universally~ perfect, but with sure perfect for themselves (again, if only try) and/ or certainly for somebody else- the love(s) of our lives, our twin soul(s).
c.1920 - Radio Set / fine cut and engraved glasswork
by second-generation glass artist Thomas Taylor Hunt
-Corning Museum of Glass-