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My people are few. They resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain.
My people are few. They resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain.
My people are few. They resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain.
My people are few. They resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain.
My people are few. They resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain.
My people are few. They resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain.
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Chief Seattle:
Youth is impulsive. When our young men grow angry at some real or imaginary wrong, and disfigure thChief Seattle:
Revenge by young men is considered gain, even at the cost of their own lives, but old men who stayChief Seattle:
Our people are ebbing away like a rapidly receding tide that will never return. The white man's GodChief Seattle:
To us, the ashes of our ancestors are sacred and their resting place is hallowed ground.Chief Seattle:
Our religion is the traditions of our ancestors - the dreams of our old men, given them in solemn hChief Seattle:
Day and night cannot dwell together. The Red Man has ever fled the approach of the White Man, as thChief Seattle:
Tribe follows tribe, and nation follows nation, like the waves of the sea. It is the order of naturChief Seattle:
There is no death, only a change of worlds.Chief Seattle:
Humans merely share the earth. We can only protect the land, not own it.Chief Seattle:
If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?