Perfect is Imperfect.

Perfect is imperfect.

If theres no problems, we have no fun.

We can't read books with villians, we can't imagine anything we've never been through, and we can't be happy.

We'd always be bored, with no flaws to entertain us.

We wouldn't be able to apriciate goodness, because it's all we've ever know. You don't have to work for anything, and we would get encridably lazy. We could eat a whole package of Nutty Butty Butter Bars with no concequences.

None of us would bee better at anything than anyone, and there wouldn't be real pride. I could ramble about this all day- but my main meaning is, you can't have good without the evil.

No light without the darkness, and no releif without the pain.

We must have; balance.