When I began to talk with him, I could not help thinking that he was not really wise

although he was thought wise by many, and more wise still by himself

and I went and tried to explain to him that he thought himself wise, but was not really wise

and the consequence was that he hated me,

and his enmity was shared by several who were present and heard me.

So I left him, saying to myself, as I went away:

Well, although I do not suppose that either of us knows anything really beautiful and good

I am better off than he is—for he knows nothing, and thinks that he knows.

I neither know nor think that I know.

In this latter particular, then, I seem to be slightly more wise than him.

Then I went to another, who had still higher philosophical pretensions

and my conclusion was exactly the same.

I made another enemy of him

and of many others besides him.

—The Apology of Socrates