My arm trembles, I cannot hold the light steady, I back away from you, unable, however, to take my eyes off you, unable not to wish I could hold the light still. Yes, I am changed, but to what, in what way, in what does this change consist? I don’t know, I don’t know what further description to add, what richer predicate to use than this, when infinitely enigmatically I say of myself: I am changed.