When my young men began the killing, my heart was hurt.

From where the sun now stands I will fight no more.

I would have given my own life if I could have undone the killing of white men by my people.

I do not believe that the Great Spirit Chief gave one kind of men the right to tell another kind of men what they must do.

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.

The earth and myself are of one mind. The measure of the land and the neasure of our bodies are the same

I believe much trouble and blood would be saved if we opened our hearts more. I will tell you in my way how the Indian sees things. The white man has more words to tell you how they look to him, but it does not require many words to speak the truth.