I do not wish to be shut up in a corral. All agency Indians I have seen are worthless. They are neither red warriors nor white farmers. They are neither wolf nor dog.

I wish it to be remembered that I was the last man of my tribe to surrender my rifle.

If I agree to dispose of any part of our land to the white people I would feel guilty of taking food away from our children's mouths, and I do not wish to be that mean.

What white man has ever seen me drunk? Who has ever come to me hungry and left me unfed? Who has seen me beat my wives or abuse my children? What law have I broken?

Now that we are poor, we are free. No white man controls our footsteps.

The earth has received the embrace of the sun and we shall see the results of that love.