"We must then ask ourselves something like this," said Socrates. "What kind of thing is likely to undergo scattering, and for what kind of thing should we fear this? And what kind of thing is not likely to suffer this? After that, we must consider which of the two the soul is, and from that, we should either be confident or fearful for our own soul." "True," he said. "Is it not true that whatever has been composed or is naturally composite is likely to be split apart in the same way it was composed? While if there is anything uncompounded, it is to this alone, if to anything, that splitting apart is unlikely to happen?" "It seems so to me," said Cebes. "Therefore, things that are always the same and in the same state are most likely uncompounded, while things that are sometimes one way, sometimes another, and never the same, are composite?" "I think so." "Let us turn to the very things we discussed in our previous argument. That reality itself—whose essence we give an account of in questioning and answering—is it always the same and in the same state, or does it vary? Does the Equal itself, the Beautiful itself, or each thing in itself that is reality, ever admit any change whatsoever? Or does each of them, being uniform by itself, remain always the same and in the same state, never admitting any alteration in any way or manner?" "Necessarily, Socrates," said Cebes, "they remain the same and in the same state." "But what about the many beautiful things—such as men, horses, garments, or anything else of the kind? Or equal things, or all things sharing the same names as those realities? Do they remain the same, or in complete contrast to those realities, are they virtually never the same as themselves or each other?" "That is the case," said Cebes. "They are never the same." "These things you could touch, or see, or perceive with your other senses. But those things that remain the same—is there any other way to grasp them except by the reasoning of thought? Are not such things invisible and not able to be seen?" "You speak entirely truly," he said. "Shall we then assume two kinds of beings: the visible and the invisible?" "Let us assume them," he said. "And the invisible always remains the same, while the visible never does?" "Let us assume this as well," he said.