The Interior Castle was written under obedience late in Teresa's life, and she begins by confessing how hard the task is and how little new she thinks she has to say. Then an image comes to her that organizes the whole book: she sees the soul as a castle made of a single diamond or very transparent crystal, containing many rooms, with the most precious chamber at its very centre, where God and the soul hold their most secret intercourse.
The castle has seven groups of rooms, which she calls mansions or dwelling places. They are not a stacked suite but rings around the centre, and a soul can occupy more than one at a time. The drama of the book is the movement inward from the outer walls, where many people loiter in the courtyard with the reptiles, never caring to discover who lives within, toward the innermost room where the King dwells.
The first three mansions describe the life a person can largely build by ordinary effort with grace: entering through prayer, growing in self-knowledge, resisting temptation, practising the virtues, and persevering through dryness and the pull of worldly cares. Teresa treats self-knowledge as the bread eaten at every stage, and she insists that humility, not lofty experiences, is the real measure of progress.
From the fourth mansion onward the initiative shifts. The favours become things God gives rather than things the soul produces, and Teresa reaches for comparisons because the experiences outrun plain description. The most famous is the silkworm: the soul, like the worm, spins a cocoon and dies within it, and what God draws out is a small white butterfly, a self so changed it scarcely recognizes itself. In the sixth mansion the soul is wounded by love and endures both great trials and great consolations as it is drawn toward the spiritual betrothal.
The seventh mansion is the spiritual marriage, a lasting union Teresa likens to rain falling into a river so the waters cannot be parted, or to two windows letting one light into a room. She is emphatic that this peak is not the point. The marriage exists so that good works may be born, and she ends by insisting that Martha and Mary must work together: contemplation and active service belong to the same soul, and the truest evidence of God's nearness is a life poured out for others.