No Perfection Quotes

If the devil wears a suit... Has a permanent frown... Wet panties left and right.. Expect perfection from everyone... Well then, that's my boss. And today is not my day. It's never your day when you get called to his office. But an even worse day when he broodingly asks you to marry him. And apparently, no is not an answer he will take. So, does that mean I am now supposed to call my devil of a boss my pumpkin boo?

What ​happens when a trip to France becomes a turnaround for young and naive Christina King? Cameras to her face and a life of perfection isn't what Christina imagined to be the best life but after a short trip to France, the young woman finds herself tangled in problems as an opportunity becomes a maze of twists and turns and she finds herself tied in between a mere chef and world known billionaire. Will she choose the life set up for her or are there more secrets yet to be discovered?

Sunday, the 10th of July 2030, will be the day everything, life as we know it, will change forever. For now, let's bring it back to the day it started heading in that direction. Jebidiah is just a guy, wanted by all the girls and resented by all the jealous guys, except, he is not your typical heartthrob. It may seem like Jebidiah is the epitome of perfection, but he would go through something not everyone would have to go through. Will he be able to come out of it alive, or would it have all been for nothing?

Anastasia Dawson, a third year Political Science student. She is a combination of beauty and intelligence–a genius to be precise. And the fact that she is an orphan but still live a lavish life, makes her almost perfect. That is why she became easily part of the perfect and most popular squad in her new School. But, their flawless image suddenly got tinted when Sia spilled some of their dirty little secrets. As their friendship ends. Who would expect that Sia will also face her tragic death. But, her end is the only beginning for their staged perfection to be ruined.

My husband lies to me about working late on Christmas Day. I know he wants to give me a surprise—I saw a jewelry set worth millions of dollars in his pocket. However, all I receive is the news of him pretending to be Santa Claus as he delivers a gift to his female secretary. She flaunts it on social media. "You're the most precious Christmas gift I've gotten." My husband changes the background photo on his social media to a photo of them together. I smile and like the post. Later, the secretary comes to me and smugly says she's pregnant. Meanwhile, I pull out a diagnosis report verifying that my husband is sterile. "Checkmate!" She visibly panics.

As the Mafia principessa, my dad banned men from my life growing up for my protection. However, when I turned twenty, my mom suddenly started arranging blind dates for me. “Please. Just go meet him.” “Mom, I’m only twenty. Am I supposed to get married already?” I didn’t understand her urgency. “I know, I know, but—” After hesitating for a long time, I finally said what was really bothering me. “The guy you introduced is almost fifty. He’s old enough to be my dad!” There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then my mom spoke carefully. “Well, actually… it’s possible he really is your father. I was young and foolish back then. More daddies, more options, right?” My silence must have been deafening because she hurried to backtrack. “Okay, okay. He is a little older, but he’s seriously handsome! A daddy among daddies. Incubus‑level hot!”

My husband, Gideon Huber, is a self-righteous hypocrite. He used my money to fund an impoverished student's education fees, forced me to donate my kidney to a homeless man, and even gave my newborn to a human trafficker. Now that I'm reborn, I finally found out why Gideon had done all those things to me in my past life. Apparently, he was bound to the virtue system in my past life. This time, the system has chosen me as its host. Well then, Gideon, please enjoy the feats of "justice" I shall perform on you!

For six years, I took bullets for him and erased every sharp edge of myself. Because of the way he protected me, outsiders all believed I was the woman closest to his heart. However, when I asked for just one sincere “I love you”, he laughed and refused. “Mafia marriages aren’t about feelings. Know your place.” Then he said, “If Sophia doesn’t like it, don’t even bother.” When the bomb countdown hit thirty seconds, my don husband shoved me aside without hesitation and ran out holding Sophia in his arms. Only then did I understand that after six years of entanglement, I wasn't even worth a single hair of his sister. I slammed the divorce papers into his face. “I’m going to personally send you and your precious sister straight to hell!”

I pushed the door open and saw Giovanna standing there in my silk robe—my gift from Enzo—and wearing my heirloom pendant. She lifted a brow and mocked me, “The robe fits, the pendant’s mine, and you—get out.” I grabbed Enzo, demanding an explanation, but he shoved a fake contract in my face, saying, “You signed it.” “I did not. Stop lying!” I snapped. He snapped at me, “This is family business. You know nothing.” It seemed three years together was nothing but an act. That very night, I ran away to Milan. I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to until Mark showed up out of nowhere. “Don’t be scared,” he said. “I’ve got you. As long as I’m around, no one touches you.” He protected me, and for a moment, I really thought I’d finally found someone I could rely on. However, when we were practicing at the shooting range later, I stared at him. “Why are you helping me?” I asked. “And don’t tell me it’s because of that mess I left behind.” His eyes flickered for a second before he answered, “Just trust me. That’s all you need to do.” Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. This whole disaster was all one giant setup. And now here I am, gripping a gun, fighting for justice, but am I really avenging myself? Or was I already someone else’s pawn from the very beginning?

A few weeks before our wedding, Rodney Luther's stepmother, Jessica Flaine, posts a photo on her social media. In the photo, she's wearing the wedding dress I picked out, holding a bouquet of red roses, and shyly leaning toward Rodney, asking for a kiss. The caption reads—"Dreams fulfilled." I don't call Rodney in tears or throw a fit like I used to. I simply like the post and leave a comment. "Screenshot sent to Rodney's father." Not long after, Jessica deletes the post, and Rodney's phone call follows immediately. "Ivana, you're being so petty! The rest of my days belong to you. It's only today that I'm fulfilling a small dream of Jessica's. Hurry up and explain things to my dad! "Come on, be good. I've got a gift for you." A scoff escapes me. "Rodney, do you hear me clearly? Go explain it to your father yourself!"