I am not a child, I think for myself. No man can think for me.
It takes few words to tell the truth.
From where the sun now stands I will fight no more.
When I think of our condition, my heart is heavy. I see men of my own race treated as outlaws and driven from country to country, or shot down like animals.
War can be avoided, and it ought to be avoided. I want no war.
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.