America is a poem in our eyes; its ample geography dazzles the imagination, and it will not wait long for metres. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
America is a poem in our eyes; its ample geography dazzles the imagination, and it will not wait long for metres. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
America is a poem in our eyes; its ample geography dazzles the imagination, and it will not wait long for metres. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
America is a poem in our eyes; its ample geography dazzles the imagination, and it will not wait long for metres. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
America is a poem in our eyes; its ample geography dazzles the imagination, and it will not wait long for metres. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
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America is a poem in our eyes; its ample geography dazzles the imagination, and it will not wait long for metres.

— Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Eyes America Long

More “Eyes” Quotes

The sun gave us our eyes to see the beauty of nature, his creation, through his light. — Debasish Mridha
Our eyes see only that which language can explain, but our hearts see that which is invisible and unexplainable. — Debasish Mridha
To see the magic of life look through the wondrous eyes of a child. — Debasish Mridha
I don’t want fame, money, or duty. I want to close my eyes and see your loving beauty. — Debasish Mridha
Close your eyes to feel deeply the tranquility and serenity of the mind. — Debasish Mridha
You must love when your eyes are closed and love when your eyes are open. Love endlessly. — Debasish Mridha
When pain brings you down, don't be silly, don't close your eyes and cry, you just might be in the best position to see — Alanis Morissette
The moment you realize that life will hurt more than your death. While existing, we're forced to become acquainted with — Crystal Woods, Write like no one is reading
The moment you realize your eyes hurt not because of rubbing them, but because of the tears you wasted, on him. — Athena Kamalei
That's when it hit me; my sunglasses were buried in the grave where my Talal lay. Yes, my sunglasses were buried with hi — Zeina Kassem, Crossing
Alone, all alone in the world, sad and small like a nightingale serenading the infinite. How could a love so tender and — Cisneros Sandra
He ran as fast as he could, but the memories were fast too. He stumbled upon them and fell to the ground. The memories g — Akshay Vasu