I was born into a perfect world.
When I was young I thought that I was perfect and everyone else imperfect
When I grew strong I sought to make perfect the imperfect
As I grew older I made myself a judge of imperfection
As I mature I see that the perfect and imperfect get along quite well.
There is no contest between the perfect and imperfection; one will do what one will.
Though perfection be a mirror for imperfection and all imperfect an impression of the perfect, the end of perfection is not alike that of the imperfect.
To strive for perfection is in me in all I am and in all I can be.