How now, young man?
What is that, there, in the mud?
There! There! Do you see it?
There, in the mire, beyond the pines!
More light! More light!
Is that, perhaps -
It coudn't be -
Can we, too, still have virtues?
Look how they dance on their doves feet!
Fly, young man! Catch them!
Is there anything more beautiful than looking for ones own virtues?
Doesn't this almost mean: believing in ones own virtue?