SO. So also do those whose wax is hard; for the imprints lack depth. And imprints in soft wax are also indistinct, because

 
they melt together and quickly become blurred; but if besides all this they are crowded upon one another through lack of room, in some mean little soul, they are still more indistinct. So all these men are likely to have false opinions. For when they see or hear or think of anything, they cannot quickly assign things to the right imprints, but are slow about it, and because they assign them wrongly they usually see and hear and think amiss. These men, in turn, are accordingly said to be deceived about realities and ignorant. THEAET. You are right as right could be, Socrates. SOC. Shall we, then, say that false opinions exist in us? THEAET. Assuredly. SOC. And true opinions, no doubt? THEAET. And true ones also. SOC. Then now at last we think we have reached a valid agreement, that these two kinds of opinion incontestably exist? THEAET. Most emphatically. SOC. Truly, Theaetetus, a garrulous man is a strange and unpleasant creature! THEAET. Eh? What makes you say that? SOC. Vexation at my own stupidity and genuine garrulity. For what else could you call it when a man drags his arguments up and down because he is so stupid that he cannot be convinced, and is hardly to be induced to give up any one of them? THEAET. But you, why are you vexed? SOC. I am not merely vexed, I am actually afraid; for I do not know what answer to make if anyone asks me: Socrates, have you found out, I wonder, that false opinion exists neither in the relations of the perceptions to one another nor in the thoughts,
 
but in the combination of perception with thought? I shall say yes, I suppose, and put on airs, as if we had made a fine discovery. THEAET. It seems to me, Socrates, that the result we have now brought out is not half bad. SOC. Do you go on and assert, then, he will say, that we never could imagine that the man whom we merely think of, but do not see, is a horse which also we do not see or touch or perceive by any other sense, but merely think of? I suppose I shall say that I do make that assertion. THEAET. Yes, and you will be right. SOC. Then, he will say, according to that, could we ever imagine that the number eleven which is merely thought of, is the number twelve which also is merely thought of? Come now, it is for you to answer. THEAET. Well, my answer will be that a man might imagine the eleven that he sees or touches to be twelve, but that he could never have that opinion concerning the eleven that he has in his mind.