When I was a boy, the Sioux owned the world. The sun rose and set in their land; they sent ten thousand men into battle.
Where are the warriors today? Who slew them? Where are our lands? Who owns them?
What white man can say I ever stole his land or a penny of his money? Yet they say I am a thief.
What white women, however lonely, was ever captive or insulted by me? Yet they say I am a bad Indian.
What white man has ever seen me drunk?
Who has ever come to me hungry and left me unfed? Who has ever seen me beat my wives or abuse my children? What law have I broken?
Is it wrong of me to love my own? Is it wicked for me because my skin is red? Because I am Sioux? Because I was born where my father lived? Because I would die for my people and my country?
Sitting Bull - Teton Sioux