Something Wicked This Way Comes
Both touched toward fourteen; it almost trembled in their hands.
And that was the October week when they grew up overnight, and were never so young any more (Prologue.5-6)
For it was no longer the street of the apples or plums or apricots, it was the one house with a window at the side and this window, Jim said, was a stage, with a curtain – the shade, that is – up. And in that room, on that strange stage, were the actors, who spoke mysteries, mouthed wild things, laughed, sighed, murmured so much; so much of it was whispers Will did not understand. (6.10)
Framed through the hall door Will saw the only theater he cared for now, the familiar stage where sat his father […] holding a book but reading the empty spaces. In a chair by the fire mother knitted and hummed like a tea-kettle. (8.3)