All things are connected. Whatever befalls the Earth, befalls the children of the Earth.
The earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.
All things are bound together. All things connect.
The earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.
If all the beasts were gone, men would die from a great loneliness of spirit, for whatever happens to the beasts also happens to the man. All things are connected. Whatever befalls the Earth befalls the sons of the Earth.
All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man... the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.
Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.
Our religion is the traditions of our ancestors - the dreams of our old men, given them in solemn hours of the night by the Great Spirit; and the visions of our sachems, and is written in the hearts of our people.
There is no death, only a change of worlds.
All things are connected like the blood which unites one family.
We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered it, he moves on.
Man does not weave this web of life. He is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.
Earth does not belong to us; we belong to earth. Take only memories, leave nothing but footprints.
When the Earth is sick, the animals will begin to disappear, when that happens, The Warriors of the Rainbow will come to save them.
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
I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic.
The white man's dead forget the country of their birth when they go to walk among the stars. Our dead never forget this beautiful Earth, for it is the mother of the red man. We are part of the Earth and it is part of us.
You must teach your children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of your grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.
This We Know. All Things Are Connected
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.
Take nothing but memories, leave nothing but footprints!
Like a man who has been dying for many days, a man in your city is numb to the stench.
I really enjoy doing theater, but doing theater in Seattle is like dropping a brick in a bottomless well. It's gratifying, but it's almost like doing radio. It's ephemeral.
I grabbed my drummer's cymbal in my teeth just as he crashed down on it with his sticks-I blacked out. I was a punk in those days. It was in Seattle. I still have all my teeth too, it's amazing.
And it’d be very hard to make up something as strange as the Dutch tulipmania in the seventeenth century, for example. Or the mysterious case of Thomas Clapper. Or the entire civic history of Seattle, Washington.
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