And I will surrender to you my sovereign self.
Cébès: What did you say?
Simon: You hold between your hands a living man.
I live and I am here with the mystery of my soul.
O death, O night, there are here two guilty persons, who have found each other.
You lay your hand on my blouse and that which you touch is still yourself.
It is also I and I am only a man!
Understand me! With your hands lay hold upon this sorrow! The irresolute man bereft of knowledge!
How fine a thing it is that these lips should say "I."
Yet my eyes, those consuls that should always be vigilant,