"It would be a pitiable state of affairs, Phaedo," he said, "if a true, secure argument exists that is capable of being understood, yet a man, because he encounters arguments that seem true at one time and false at another, does not blame himself or his own lack of skill, but because of his distress happily shifts the blame from himself to the arguments, and spends the rest of his life hating and reviling arguments, thus depriving himself of truth and knowledge of reality." "By Zeus," I said, "that would be pitiable indeed." "First of all, then," he said, "let us guard against this, and not let the thought enter our soul that there is perhaps nothing sound in arguments. Let us rather think that we ourselves are not yet sound, but must act like men and strive eagerly to become sound—you and the others for the sake of the rest of your lives, and I for the sake of death itself. For in my present situation, I run the risk of acting not like a philosopher regarding this matter, but like a contentious debater, exactly like those who lack all education. When they debate a point, they do not care how the facts actually stand; they only eagerly seek to persuade their audience to accept whatever they have proposed. In my present situation, I differ from them only in this: I will not eagerly seek to persuade the audience that what I say is true—except as a secondary effect—but I will eagerly seek to persuade myself above all else that it is true. I calculate it this way, my dear comrade—see how selfish I am: If what I say is actually true, it is an excellent thing to be persuaded of it. If there is nothing after death, I will at least avoid distressing those present with my lamentations during the time before my death. And my ignorance will not persist with me—that would be an evil—but will soon perish. Prepared like this, Simmias and Cebes, I approach the argument. You, if you listen to me, will give little thought to Socrates, and much more to the truth. If I seem to say anything true, agree with me; if not, oppose me with every argument, taking care that in my eagerness I do not deceive both myself and you, departing like a bee leaving its stinger behind."