We Walk Ourselves Into Ruts So Deep

A Prison! Heav'ns, I Loath The Hated Name, Famine's Metropolis, The Sink Of Shame, A Nauseous Sepulchre, Whose Craving Womb Hourly Inters Poor Mortals In Its Tomb; By Ev'ry Plague And Ev'ry Ill Possess'd, Ev'n Purgatory Itself To Thee 's A Jest.

Complacency Makes One As Guilty As Those Who Destroy The Earth.

Immerse Yourself In Nature’s Symphony And Let Your Senses Burst With Joy.

We Walk Ourselves Into Ruts So Deep We Cannot See Over Them.

If Today I Had A Young Mind To Direct, To Start On The Journey Of Life, And I Was Faced With The Duty Of Choosing Between The Natural Way Of My Forefathers And That Of The... Present Way Of Civilization, I Would, For Its Welfare, Unhesitatingly Set That Child's Feet In The Path Of My Forefathers. I Would Raise Him To Be An Indian!