We are all children of the Great Spirit, we all belong to Mother Earth. Our planet is in great trouble and if we keep carrying old grudges and do not work together, we will all die.

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

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.

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.

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

Take nothing but memories, leave nothing but footprints!

The whites, too, shall pass - perhaps sooner than other tribes. Continue to contaminate your bed and you will one night suffocate in your own waste.

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

Take only memories, leave only 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.

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.

Any idiot or imbecile can easily make enemies

I sighed immersed in a sleeping sea. A ripple that turned into waves and then storm, stirring and blending our troubled waters

Man passes away his name perishes from record and recollection his history is as a tale that is told and his very monument becomes a ruin.

Introduction - a social ceremony invented by the devil for the gratification of his servants and the plaguing of his enemies.

Nirvana has nothing do with any of this. None of this is there.

Gratitude causes us to no longer desire a different life. Instead, it causes us to make the most of the one life we already have.

I was 12 in 1989 during perestroika, when my mother found a program that sent me to Russia to study art in the forests outside of Leningrad.

As bad as I was, as much trouble and worry as I caused my mother, I loved her.

The Stars are setting and the Caravan Starts for the Dawn of Nothing-Oh, make haste!

I don't send messages, I'm not a fax machine