STRANGER: In this region we shall always discover the philosopher, if we look for him; like the Sophist, he is not easily discovered, but for a different reason. THEAETETUS: For what reason? STRANGER: Because the Sophist runs away into the darkness of not-being, in which he has learned by habit to feel about, and cannot be discovered because of the darkness of the place. Is not that true? THEAETETUS: It seems to be so. STRANGER: And the philosopher, always holding converse through reason with the idea of being, is also dark from excess of light; for the souls of the many have no eye which can endure the vision of the divine. THEAETETUS: Yes; that seems to be quite as true as the other. STRANGER: Well, the philosopher may hereafter be more fully considered by us, if we are disposed; but the Sophist must clearly not be allowed to escape until we have had a good look at him. THEAETETUS: Very good. STRANGER: Since, then, we are agreed that some classes have a communion with one another, and others not, and some have communion with a few and others with many, and that there is no reason why some should not have universal communion with all, let us now pursue the enquiry, as the argument suggests, not in relation to all ideas, lest the multitude of them should confuse us, but let us select a few of those which are reckoned to be the principal ones, and consider their several natures and their capacity of communion with one another, in order that if we are not able to apprehend with perfect clearness the notions of being and not-being, we may at least not fall short in the consideration of them, so far as they come within the scope of the present enquiry, if peradventure we may be allowed to assert the reality of not-being, and yet escape unscathed. THEAETETUS: We must do so. STRANGER: The most important of all the genera are those which we were just now mentioning--being and rest and motion. THEAETETUS: Yes, by far. STRANGER: And two of these are, as we affirm, incapable of communion with one another. THEAETETUS: Quite incapable. STRANGER: Whereas being surely has communion with both of them, for both of them are? THEAETETUS: Of course. STRANGER: That makes up three of them. THEAETETUS: To be sure. STRANGER: And each of them is other than the remaining two, but the same with itself. THEAETETUS: True. STRANGER: But then, what is the meaning of these two words, 'same' and 'other'? Are they two new kinds other than the three, and yet always of necessity intermingling with them, and are we to have five kinds instead of three; or when we speak of the same and other, are we unconsciously speaking of one of the three first kinds? THEAETETUS: Very likely we are. STRANGER: But, surely, motion and rest are neither the other nor the same. THEAETETUS: How is that? STRANGER: Whatever we attribute to motion and rest in common, cannot be either of them. THEAETETUS: Why not?