“I got my best foot forward onto greener grass, cause there ain’t no future living in the past.”

A Native American grandfather was talking to his grandson about how he felt. He said, ‘I feel as if I have two wolves fighting in my heart.

Nothing can be sold but such things as can be carried away

No white American ever thinks that any other race is wholly civilized until he wears the white man’s clothes, eats the white man’s food, speaks the white man’s language, and professes the white man’s religion.

Nobody asks to be a hero, it just sometimes turns out that way.

The white men speak bad of the Indian, and look at him spitefully. But the Indian does not tell lies; Indians do not steal.

What, do y’all think you’re heroes?’ I didn’t know what to say at the time, but if he asked me again, I’d say no. I’d say there’s no way in hell. Nobody asks to be a hero. It just sometimes turns out that way.

If you treat a sick child as an adult and a sick adult as a child, it usually works out pretty well.

[Black Hawk] has fought for his countrymen, the squaws and papooses, against white men, who came year after year, to cheat them and take away their lands.

My reason teaches me that land cannot be sold. The Great Spirit gave it to his children to live upon. So long as they occupy and cultivate it, they have a right to the soil.

When I get home and people ask me,’Hey, Hoot, why do you do it, man? What are you? Some kind of war junkie?

The white men despise the Indians, and drive them from their homes. But the Indians are not deceitful.

Its never to late to get back on your feet though we wont live forever make sure you accomplish what you were put here for

Wild Eyes was built for speed and I was flying down walls of water twenty and thirty feet high.

What are you doing?” “I’m going to enjoy a long overdue make-out session with my girl. That’s what I’m doing.” I explained, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me with one shove of my foot.

I never stepped foot into a Brooks Brothers before Mad Men.

I’m content to stand on tradition. I’m even more content to wipe my feet on it.

With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day, and wish ’twere done. Not till the hours of light return All we have built do we discern.

If the shoe doesn’t fit, must we change the foot?

If you drive a car, I’ll tax the street; if you try to sit, I’ll tax your seat; if you get too cold, I’ll tax the heat; if you take a walk, I’ll tax your feet.