Tyler Kent White

You are the fever that never broke, the name stuck in my throat. You are every letter of every word in every poem I ever wrote.

Love is simple: It is waking up knowing you exist in a mind outside of your own. It is having one heart that carries two beats. It is you and me spoken in terms of us and we.

Not everything I write will be a masterpiece; I know that. It is a process selecting words to convey feelings never meant to be spoken. So maybe I’ve been searching for what’s already been said and this is the finest way I can say it. I love you, in everything I am, I love you.

To me, you’ll always be the rising suns, the sinking moons, and all the stars that come between the sound of rain and river stones, the warmth of my sheets, the ache in my bones.

You are the daydream I am supposed to have for the rest of my life.

You deserve to give yourself the same love that you give to everyone else.

No one gossips about other people’s secret virtues.

I am one of the people who love the why of things.

Life, as I see it, is not a location, but a journey. Life flows.

I was gratified to be able to answer promptly, and I did. I said I didn’t know.

And you know, there’s less charm in life when you think about death–but it’s more peaceful.

We’re cool for the summer.

The real problem is not whether machines think but whether men do.

Grief never mended no broken bones.

I’m not a survivor. Survivor comes from saying you barely made it and you’re a victim. I am triumphant. I’m not a survivor.

No, I’m not anguished and tormented.

You be the clouds above, I’ll be the grass below, and everything in between will be where our love will grow.

Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.

Above all else, I would choose you. When there’s no more grand gestures, no more words to say, when everything around us begins to give way, when the sky grows dim and the colors fade, I will choose you.

Every one knows that insufficient rest and gorging are not good for anyone, either physically or mentally.

We are entering an era when we shall create resources which shall be so constantly renewed that the only loss will be not to use them. There will be such a plenteous supply of heat, light and power, that it will be a sin not to use all we want. This era is coming now. And it is coming by way of Water.