While Aziraphale was not particularly fond of television, pizza, pudding, or sex, he took Gabriel's point, although his lips did turn down at the corners slightly at the mention of pudding - really, there were so many better things you could put in your mouth - and sex, simply because he didn't see the appeal. Books, he amended, and tea, and good dinners, and no hosannas, and conversations, real conversations. He didn't say any of this aloud because he was certain Gabriel would make fun of him.

Still, he leaned forward, steepling his fingers. A serious expression settled on his face. "My main confusion," he said, carefully leaving out the part where he had not come to it independently - the idea had been Crowley's, the idea was always Crowley's - "is in the concept that, even if a creation far surpasses its intentions, Plans can't be changed. As if they're set in stone - well, I suppose they are literally set in stone somewhere - but the point is - "

He struggled to find a point. "The point is," he managed at last, "it's not worth it. All the light at the expense of being able to - to learn."