I always find beauty in things that are odd and imperfect - they are much more interesting.

In LA where I live it's all about perfectionism. Beauty is now defined by your bones sticking out of your decolletage. For that to be the standard is really perilous for women.

I don't want to be perfect but I do want to be a role model. My mom always tells me that imperfections equal beauty. All of us are imperfect.

I am little concerned with beauty or perfection. I don't care for the great centuries. All I care about is life struggle intensity.

It would be difficult for me not to conclude that the most perfect type of masculine beauty is Satan as portrayed by Milton.

Beauty is also submitted to the taste of time so a beautiful woman from the Belle Epoch is not exactly the perfect beauty of today so beauty is something that changes with time.

San Francisco is a mad city - inhabited for the most part by perfectly insane people whose women are of a remarkable beauty.

A day spent without the sight or sound of beauty the contemplation of mystery or the search of truth or perfection is a poverty-stricken day and a succession of such days is fatal to human life.

Imperfection is beauty madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.

There is a kind of beauty in imperfection.