"Now," said Socrates, "is it not true that we ourselves are part body and part soul?" "Nothing else," he said. "To which kind does the body seem to be more similar and more akin?" "To the visible, clearly to everyone," he said. "And the soul? Is it visible or invisible?" "Invisible to human beings at least, Socrates," he said. "But we were speaking of what is visible and invisible to human nature, surely. Or do you think it is to some other nature?" "To human nature." "What then do we say about the soul? Is it visible or unseen?" "Unseen." "So it is invisible." "Yes." "Therefore, the soul is more similar to the invisible than the body is, and the body more similar to the visible." "Entirely necessary, Socrates." "Were we not also saying a while ago that whenever the soul uses the body to investigate something—whether by sight, hearing, or some other sense (for investigating through the body means investigating through the senses)—it is dragged by the body toward things that are never the same. The soul wanders, is confused, and becomes dizzy like a drunkard from contact with such things?" "Certainly." "But whenever the soul investigates by itself, it departs to what is pure, always existing, immortal, and always the same. And because it is akin to it, the soul always remains with it, whenever the soul is by itself and is able to do so. It ceases its wandering and, being in contact with such things, remains always the same and in the same state. This condition of the soul is called wisdom." "Beautifully and truly spoken, Socrates." "To which of the two kinds does the soul seem to you to be more similar and more akin, based on both the previous arguments and this one?" "Everyone, even the most foolish, would agree from this method of inquiry that the soul is entirely and in every way more similar to what always remains the same than to what does not." "And the body?" "To the other."