But it's often the case that our most intimate enemies are rooted in our own darkness. - Bruce Coville

"We were having so much fun gossiping about the show that it was nearly half an hour before we got back to the subject of the microfilm. Actually, I was the one who got us on track again when I suddenly shouted, "July, 1935!" in a voice far too loud for the library.
Sam looked at me strangely.
"That's the date of the play," I said, blushing. "I just remembered it.

Now that she had lived in two worlds, would she ever again be completely at home in either of them? Or would part of her always long for the other, no matter where she was?

Time becomes very weird. Sometimes it seems as if the hours are rushing by in a blur, the moment of performance hurtling toward me. Other times the clock seems to poke along like a sloth with chronic fatigue syndrome.