Earth does not belong to us; we belong to earth. Take only memories, leave nothing but footprints.

What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, men would die from great loneliness of spirit

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.

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, every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clear and humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.

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.

All things are connected. Whatever befalls the Earth, befalls the children of the Earth.

Only when the last tree has died and the last river has been poisoned and the last fish has been caught will we realise that we can not eat money.