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
Chief SeattleThere is no quiet place in the white man's cities. No place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring, or the rustle of an insect's wings. But perhaps it is because I am a savage and do not understand. The clatter only seems to insult the ears.
Chief SeattleLet him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death, only change of worlds.
Chief Seattle