Inner life (n.) is what the “most useless of men” testify to: that this intoxicating world is not purely external but also exists within.
The Inner life (n.) is read differently by each: one man takes its stirrings as physiological, another blames his neighbours, another finds in them a religious revelation.
The Inner life (n.) is as volatile as the outer, where a continent may sink or a pestilence break out; failing to adapt to it is as costly as ineptitude in the world outside.
The Inner life (n.) neglected will irrupt into the outer: the prosperous manufacturer who remembered his youthful love of art put artistic designs on his wares — and went bankrupt.
The Inner life (n.) is the outer world seen in a mirror — and the outer world is equally a compensatory mirror-image of the inner; we stand between the two.
The Inner life (n.) was once a sheltering haven; science has made it a cesspool.