The Passing of Each Perfect Moment Quotes

“This was long term love. This was the love of someone she had been in love with for a very long time. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew this young man intimately and had known him intimately for many years. Of course, she knew that it was impossible for more than one reason. She had only met him earlier in the week. Furthermore, they were both just fifteen years old. “So,”
― Kenneth Preston, The Passing of Each Perfect Moment

“She turned to her left to to face the young man who spoke the word that changed her life. Her eyes met eyes that penetrated her soul, and she knew instinctively that she would fall in love if she hadn't already. His face was soft and flawless. His lengthy dark brown hair was parted to the left and partially covered his ears. His smile was absolutely mesmerizing, magical. If”
― Kenneth Preston, The Passing of Each Perfect Moment

“That one other person was her father. She fully expected her father to be in the house waiting for her when she entered. Why? Because he had always been there for her. It was almost a miracle how often he had been there for her when she needed him the most. It was almost a miracle how often he eased her pain in those moments in which she felt that she couldn't go on. She didn't know where she would be, or even if she would be, if her father hadn't been there for her in those moments.”
― Kenneth Preston, The Passing of Each Perfect Moment

“Darkness. Then the screams came. They were piercing, frantic, hysterical. They began to subside…gradually. Then the cries…anguish. A question was asked. “Why?” It was asked through the anguished cries of a young woman, the voice so familiar. The cries continued…all around her. They were numerous. The darkness began to lift…slowly. It felt as if she were swimming from the depths of an ocean…an ocean filled with pain, filled with anguish. She struggled against the depths to make her way to the surface, to the light. As the darkness lifted, black to gray, the cries faded, receded slowly as she drew closer to the surface. Her eyes opened, and the crying ceased. Now there was silence. Light and silence. It was morning. Her eyes shifted from left to right then centered.”
― Kenneth Preston, The Passing of Each Perfect Moment