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
Humans merely share the Earth. We can only protect the land, not own it.
Take nothing but memories, leave nothing but footprints!
There is no such place as away.
How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? ... The end of living and the beginning of survival.
. . . 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.