When I kiss Agathon my soul is on my lips, where it comes, poor thing, hoping to cross over.
When men speak ill of thee, live so as nobody may believe them.
What you should do, said Socrates, is to say a magic spell over him every day until you have charmed his fears away.
Whatever deceives men seems to produce a magical enchantment.
When two friends, like you and me, are in the mood to chat, we have to go about it in a gentler and more dialectical way. By 'more dialectical,' I mean not only that we give real responses, but that we base our responses solely on what the interlocutor admits that he himself knows.