The life of Howard Roark — who achieves practical success not in spite of his high moral standards, but because of them — dramatizes Ayn Rand's theory that the moral and the practical are identical. This is an important sub-theme that runs throughout the book. The life of Peter Keating — his fall from the top, and the reasons for it — forms an important part of the lesson that Dominique learns. As his wife and, after the divorce, as an observer, Dominique watches carefully the events of Keating's life. Her marriage to him gives her a close-up view of both his methods and their results.
Dominique has been married to Keating for almost two years. Her attempt to "achieve" an anesthetized soul has failed. This is made clear by her visits to Mallory, her questions regarding Roark and his buildings, her stop to see Roark at the construction site in Ohio, her offer of marriage. Dominique is still in love with Roark, with the grandeur of his buildings and with the sight of human greatness. As Nietzsche remarked, "the noble soul has reverence for itself" — and such nobility of spirit is not to be lost. Ayn Rand quietly dramatizes an important moral point in this unsuccessful quest of Dominique's. Rand is in fundamental disagreement with the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche, because he subordinates reason to will or instinct in his understanding of how man gains knowledge. But Nietzsche does, at times, project an exalted view of the human potential, expressed in emotional, not intellectual terms. This is certainly true of the quote from Nietzsche's Beyond Good and Evil that Ayn Rand had at the head of her manuscript during the writing of The Fountainhead. Nietzsche says that there is "some fundamental certainty that a noble soul has about itself, something which is not to be sought, is not to be found, and perhaps also, is not to be lost."
Ayn Rand shows that Dominique, try though she might, cannot lose it. By some means early in her life — possibly through her exposure to great art — Dominique realized that the human potential contained far greater possibilities than the phony pretentiousness of her father and his ilk. Her reverence for the Greek statuette that she obtains in Part One shows her esteem for the Greek conception of man — for the exalted creed that man is capable of great things. Even though the men around her reject her noble vision, even though they prefer Wynand's Banner to Mozart or Michelangelo, Dominique knows that mankind is capable of great stature. This reverence for mankind's highest possibilities is the only religion that Dominique accepts. She is a committed hero-worshipper. When one has once glimpsed the sublime, it is exceedingly difficult, perhaps impossible, to ever again take seriously the profane. When one understands that an Aristotle, Leonardo, Newton, or Roark is possible — and more, when one yearns for such a sight of man's achievements — it is inconceivable that a Keating, much less a Toohey, could establish a beachhead in one's soul. Although Dominique believes that Roark will be destroyed, she knows that he is possible; such nobility of soul and greatness of achievement can be attained. Dominique values this truth the way Jeanne d'Arc values her faith. She, too, would burn at the stake rather than renounce it. To express this point by means of metaphor, Dominique aspires for a cathedral, where she can be uplifted in exalted consecration to the divine. She is unwilling to settle for a filth-ridden hovel as a substitute. Submersion in a cesspool would certainly dirty Dominique's body but would leave untouched the purity of her soul. Indeed, the very absence of sparkling cleanliness would serve only to underscore its importance to her. Immersion in the life of Keating, or of Wynand at his worst, cannot begin to alter Dominique's noble vision of human life. Nothing could.
