Once we were mighty,
Stars bent to our will,
Our reach was infinite,
Our power incontestable,
With outstretched hands we tried,
To touch the face of perfection,
But we came too close,
To that which is not due mortals,
And our punishment is our curse,
Our endless sorrow.
- Translation of an old Jovian poem



"Perfection ain't all it's cracked up to be"
- Angel saying