Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing, every humming insect is holy in the memory of my people.
When the last red man has vanished from this earth, and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, these shores and forests will still hold the spirits of my people. For they love this earth as a new-borne loves its mother's heartbeat.
So, if we sell our land, love it as we've loved it. Care for it as we've cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you take it. And with all your strength, with all your mind, with all your heart, preserve it for your children, and love it...as God loves us all.
One thing we know, our God is the same God. The earth is precious to Him. Even the white man cannot be exempt from this common destiny. We may be brothers after all.
- Chief Seattle