"No," Thanos said, instinctively. He wasn't sure at first why he said that, although he did not err in his words. He only had to walk back through his thoughts to put words to them. "Diversity of the pieces is necessary to achieve perfection. Perfection achieved by simplifying things, by making it monolithic, uninteresting - well, that is hardly a challenge. Hardly worth doing at all."

He was touching a large yellow boulder, one which he was using to represent his home planet, Titan, in a bid to recreate the structure of his solar system. He had not tried to make Titan perfect. No, he had admired the imperfections of it, had wanted to preserve them. But those imperfections led to its destruction. He grieved the loss of Titan, had wished that his solution for saving it had worked. But the shortage was in his solution, not the people of Titan. If only they'd listened, then half of them would have survived, instead of none.

"Perfection is an inherently subjective word, ultimately," Thanos said. "Or perhaps an inherently ephemeral one. Perhaps I use it not because I think it can be achieved but because I strive to eternally chase it."