The Indian race is waiting and praying.

All men were made by the Great Spirit Chief. They are all brothers.

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.

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

My father was the first to see through the schemes of the white man.

We live, we die, and like the grass and trees, renew ourselves from the soft earth of the grave. Stones crumble and decay, faiths grow old and they are forgotten, but new beliefs are born. The faith of the villages is dust now... but it will grow again... like the trees.

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