Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.
How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them? Every part of the earth is sacred to my people.
Man does not weave this web of life. He is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.
What is there to life if a man cannot hear the lonely cry of the whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around the pool at night?