" The music started, and we began to dance. It was like magic. A ghost can't lead, of course; he can't tell you where to go, with just a bit of pressure on your hand or your back. But I knew, anyway. I knew exactly where to turn, where to move. It was as if he was telling me with his eyes, which were locked on mine. And it was as if I was seeing another time through his eyes, because even though I was still in the Quackadoodle, at the same time I was back in Charleston, a hundred and twenty five years before. "

― Bruce Coville , The Ghost Wore Gray (Nina Tanleven, #2)