“I had a vision with which I might have saved my people, but I had not the strength to do it.”

Once we were happy in our own country and we were seldom hungry, for then the two-leggeds and the four-leggeds lived together like relatives, and there was plenty for them and for us.

I might have been less good to the people than some man who had never dreamed at all, even with the memory of so great a vision in me.

You’re free to dream however you wish,” Nollin teased. “But don’t ask the rest of us to share your unrealistic-” “Then don’t ask us to share your weakness!” Jason interrupted.

We cannot tolerate one mistake from others, and yet God tolerates a planet covered with His own creation that live their entire lives sinning and denying Him, and yet continues to feed, clothe and protect them.

As you walk upon the sacred earth, treat each step as a prayer.

One of the things I love about doing things that are creative is that I feel like it’s my right as an artist not to be affected by the reactions of those people that are going to hear my songs.

The power of the world always works in circles.

Even the seasons form a great circle in their changing, and always come back again to where they were.

Hear me, four quarters of the world-a relative I am! Give me the strength to walk the soft earth, a relative to all that is! Give me the eyes to see and the strength to understand, that I may be like you. With your power only can I face the winds.

Everything the Power of the World does is done in a circle.

It may be that some little root of the sacred tree still lives. Nourish it then, that it may leaf and bloom and fill with singing birds.

Any man who is attached to things of this world is one who lives in ignorance and is being consumed by the snakes of his own passions

Behold this day. It is yours to make.

Crazy Horse dreamed and went into the world where there is nothing but the spirits of things. That is the real world that is behind this one, and everything we see here is something like a shadow from that world….

You remember that my great vision came to me when I was only nine years old, and you have seen that I was not much good for anything until after I had performed the horse dance near the mouth of the Tongue River during my eighteenth summer.

It is in the darkness of their eyes that men lose their way.

I might never breathe again once he walked away from me.

I was already headed for Hell, I might as well enjoy the ride.

Because to Americans, Chechnya might as well be a suburb of Narnia.

A news organization has a much different responsibility. I might not be telling you the whole story. I might not be telling you a story in a manner that is properly sophisticated.

That’s the wonder of the internet. It’s the power of numbers: get enough people to retweet something, someone might see it.

What a photograph shows us is how a particular thing could be seen, or could be made to look – at a specific moment, in a specific context, by a specific photographer employing specific tools.

The past is always with us, in the form of our photographs, which we feel as we might a rosary, wearing them smooth with the fingering of our eyes.

Have we forgotten that there is a Holy Ghost, that we must insist upon walking on crutches when we might fly?