The white man’s dead forget the country of their birth when they go to walk among the stars. Our dead never forget this beautiful earth, for it is the mother of the red man.

My people are few. They resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain…There was a time when our people covered the land as the waves of a wind-ruffled sea cover its shell-paved floor, but that...

You must teach your children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of your grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives...

Take nothing but memories, leave nothing but footprints!

Earth does not belong to us; we belong to earth.

The white man will never be alone. Let him be just, and deal kindly with my people. For the dead are not powerless.

Things went as planned,

Like a man who has been dying for many days, a man in your city is numb to the stench.

How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water,...

Man does not weave this web of life. He is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

Whatever befalls the earth befalls the son of the earth. Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

Every door opened others. The records show some interesting encounters with a very complicated community on the ship with a complicated community ashore

All things share the same breath – the beast, the tree, the man… the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.

There is no quiet place in the white man’s cities. No place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring, or the rustle of an insect’s wings. But perhaps it is because I am a...

What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to man. All things are connected.

Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.

Take only memories, leave nothing but footprints.

We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes...