We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors; we borrow it from our children

The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind darting over the face of the pond, the smell of the wind itself cleansed by a midday rain, or scented with pinon pine. The air is precious to the red man, for all things are the same breath - the animals, the trees, the man.

My words are like the stars that never change.

All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man... the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.

Take nothing but memories, leave nothing but footprints!

How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them? Every part of the earth is sacred to my people.

All creation is one. What we do to one, we do to the entire web of life.