Our chiefs are killed. . . . The little children are freezing to death. . . . My people have no blankets, no food. . . . My heart is sick and sad. . . . I will fight no more forever.

It takes few words to tell the truth.

We are going by you without fighting if you will let us, but we are going by you anyhow!

Hear me, my chiefs! I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever.

Some of you think an Indian is like a wild animal. This is a great mistake.

My father... had sharper eyes than the rest of our people.

I saw clearly that war was upon us when I learned that my young men had been secretly buying ammunition.