When the green hills are covered with talking wires and the wolves no longer sing, what good will the money you paid for our land be then

There is no such place as away.

All things are connected like the blood which unites one family.

When the green hills are covered with talking wires and the wolves no longer sing, what good will the money you paid for our land be then

. . . the deer, the horse, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the meadows, the body heat of the pony and man - all belong to the same family. . . . The White Man must treat the beasts of this land as his brothers.

Tribe follows tribe, and nation follows nation, like the waves of the sea. It is the order of nature, and regret is useless. Your time of decay may be distant, but it will surely come, for even the White Man ... cannot be exempt from the common destiny.

I will not dwell on, nor mourn over, our untimely decay, nor reproach my paleface brothers with hastening it, as we too may have been somewhat to blame.