I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding— certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.
I don't know. Just because someone's pretty doesn't mean she's decent. Or vice versa. I'm not into appearances. I like flaws, I think they make things interesting. Nothing's perfect, the world's not perfect. But it's there for us, trying the best it can; that's what makes it so damn beautiful. This thing about you that you think is your flaw - it's the reason I'm falling in love with you. Love, no matter how it’s expressed, is still love. We all have flaws, and so our love will be flawed. But that doesn't diminish it.
The living are made of nothing but flaws. The dead, with each passing day in the afterlife, become more and more impeccable to those who remain earthbound. We are flawed creatures, all of us. Some of us think that means we should fix our flaws. But get rid of my flaws and there would be no one left. When I pass, speak freely of my shortcomings and my flaws. Learn from them, for I'll have no ego to injure.
Crippled things are always more beautiful. It's the flaw that brings out beauty. You are perfect, Avery. Just like you are, flaws and everything. Allah knows I've got so many frailties myself, I ought to be able to understand and forgive them in others.
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