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“Perhaps you have noticed that even in the slightest breeze you can hear the voice of the cottonwood tree; this we understand is its prayer to the Great Spirit, for not only men, but all things and all beings pray to Him continually in different ways.”
― Black Elk, Black Elk Speaks: Being the Life Story of a Holy Man of the Oglala Sioux

“Mother! what a world of affection is comprised in that single word; how little do we in the giddy round of youthful pleasure and folly heed her wise counsels. How lightly do we look upon that zealous care with which she guides our otherwise erring feet, watches with feelings which none but a mother can know the gradual expansion of our youth to the riper yours of discretion. We may not think of it then, but it will be recalled to our minds in after years, when the gloomy grave or a fearful living separation has placed her far beyond our reach, and her sweet voice of sympathy and consolation for the various ills attendant upon us sounds in our ears no more. How deeply then we regret a thousand deeds that we have done contrary to her gentle admonitions! How we sign for those days once more, that we may retrieve what we have done amiss and make her kind heart glad with happiness! Alas! once gone they can never be recalled, and we grow mournfully sad with the bitter reflection.”
― Fanny Kelly, Narrative of My Captivity Among the Sioux Indians

“...from the Plains Sioux Indians. The Great Spirit the creator, decided to separate the world of animals and the world of men, so He gathered all living things on the Great Plains, and He drew a line down in the dirt. That line began to expand and form into a great deep crevasse, and at the last moment before it became unbreachable Dog leapt over and stood by Man.
[from the book The NPR Interviews 1995, edited by Robert Siegel.]”
― Stanley Coren

“What is this animal?â€�
“A horse.�
The chief smiled slightly, and then shouted something to his men in Sioux. They laughed heartily.
“The white eye should stay out of the sun,� said the chief.
Marsh couldn’t help but become a little defensive.
“Wait. You’ve seen a horse’s bones, haven’t you?�
The chief nodded.
“Look at it closely.�
Marsh held the tiny skull up alongside the head of Red Cloud’s mount, comparing the two. The chief reached down and took the skull gingerly, and peered at it intently, turning it in his enormous but surprisingly dexterous hands.
“A small horse?�
“Precisely,� said Marsh, indicated the size with his hands. “Very small.�
The other Sioux laughed, but Red Cloud was fascinated.
“Where are these small horses? Show me one.�
“I’m sorry, I can’t. They are all dead. They died many, many years ago. Many snows. We search for their bones.�
“W³ó²â?â€�
“To . . . to honor them. To learn from them.�
“They speak to you?�
Marsh smiled. “Oh yes.�
“What do they say?�
“They tell us of their world. A world that has long since vanished.�
The chief looked down at the skull, then at Marsh. He shouted again to his men, in Sioux, and they lowered their rifles. He dismounted and turned to face Marsh.
“I am Red Cloud.�
“My name is Professor Marsh.�
“Marsh.â€� Red Cloud tested the name out loud, and then nodded in approval. “I will hear what these small horses have to teach.”
― Wynne McLaughlin

“Between 1870 and 1880 all Sioux were driven into reservations, fenced in and forced to give up everything that had given meaning to their life—their horses, their hunting, their arms, everything.”
― Mary Crow Dog, Lakota Woman

“Even the most white-manized Sioux is still half horse.”
― Mary Crow Dog, Lakota Woman

“The first wave of guilt came with images of the protest against the Dakota Access Pipeline in 2016. The pipeline was constructed to transport crude oil through the Dakotas into Illinois. It was voted on and decided by White men and given permission not through voluntary easements, as was originally required, but instead through forced condemnations and evictions. The Standing Rock Sioux disagreed with the pipeline, as it was likely to destroy their ancestral burial grounds and taint their water supply with viscous, black poison. Their voices went unheard.”
― Leah Myers, Thinning Blood: A Memoir of Family, Myth, and Identity

“When the construction was announced to continue as planned, the tribe and their allies came together. People from across two hundred tribes and beyond to other communities came together to try and protect their water, their lives. They were met with forces from the National Guard and seventy-five other law enforcement agencies across the country. These forces used concussion grenades and automatic rifles against civilians. They spent hours shooting them with water cannons in subfreezing temperatures to try and make them give in.”
― Leah Myers, Thinning Blood: A Memoir of Family, Myth, and Identity

“I was working towards my bachelor's degree in creative writing at Arizona State University when videos, pictures, and stories from these protests started blooming across my Facebook feed. I saw Native people holding their ground and being ground down by the opposing police force. I saw them bitten by dogs and hosed down and maimed by rubber bullets hitting their faces and bodies, all while bright white words scrolled across the bottom of the video, explaining the situation and giving statistics.”
― Leah Myers, Thinning Blood: A Memoir of Family, Myth, and Identity