Man Does Not Weave This Web Of

Your God Loves Your People And Hates Mine; He Folds His Strong Arms Lovingly Around The White Man And Leads Him As A Father Leads His Infant Son, But He Has Forsaken His Red Children; He Makes Your People Wax Strong Every Day, And Soon They Will Fill The Land; While My People Are Ebbing Away Like A Fast-receding Tide, That Will Never Flow Again. The White Man's God Cannot Love His Red Children Or He Would Protect Them. They Seem To Be Orphans Who Can Look Nowhere For Help.

Tribe Follows Tribe, Nations Follow Nations Like The Tides Of The Sea. It Is The Order Of Nature, And Regret Is Useless.

All Things Are Connected Like The Blood Which Unites One Family.

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.

To Harm The Earth Is To Heap Contempt On Its Creator.