The older I get, the more inclined I am to try to conform to sound practices because in the long run I'm less likely to be disappointed with myself. But I recognize that since the people I sew for are not quilt police, I'm just doing this for little old imperfect me. Occasionally I'll fudge the sewing rules and nobody will be likely to notice. The bottom line is that if occasionally stretching a bias seam just a tiny bit is what it takes to get the quilt together and done, I just might take that little tug. As I do it I promise myself not to give it a second thought and recite the mantra, "Finished is better than perfect." Keep in mind, too, that if you are someone who tosses a quilt in the washer and dryer the minute it's done (as I do), the natural poofy, wrinkly look will hide a multitude of sins.
A few years ago I had the joy of finishing a quilt from my SIL's family. It was just a top that she found among her late mother's things. Nobody knew who sewed it or when, but it was mostly hand stitched by a very young child or possibly someone of advanced age with shaky hands and poor eyesight. In short, it was a mess. There were pretty major mistakes all over that double bed size bit of patchwork, but it was time to either create a quilt out of it or ditch it. It was worth finishing, and the great-grandchildren of the woman who saved it now have a special quilt from the family that they can enjoy when they sleep over at their grandma's. What I'm trying to say is: Don't be afraid of imperfections. A quilt can have a lot of heart without being perfect.