STRANGER. I have been across the river, but the only thing I can recall is—that there everything was what it pretended to be. That's what makes the difference.
MRS. WALSTRÖM. When nothing stands the test of being touched, what are you then to hold on to?
STRANGER. Don't you know?
MRS. WALSTRÖM. Tell me! Tell me!
STRANGER. Sorrow brings patience; patience brings experience; experience brings hope; and hope will not bring us to shame.
MRS. WALSTRÖM. Hope, yes!
STRANGER. Yes, hope!
MRS. WALSTRÖM. Do you ever think it pleasant to live?
STRANGER. Of course. But that is also a delusion. I tell you, my dear sister-in-law, that when you happen to be born without a film over your eyes, then you see life and your fellow creatures as they are—and you have to be a pig to feel at home in such a mess.—But when you have been looking long enough at blue mists, then you turn your eyes the other way and begin to look into your own soul? There you find something really worth looking at.
MRS. WALSTRÖM. And what is it you see?