Quotes from Joseph Bruchac

The old man must have stopped our car two dozen times to climb out and gather into his hands the small toads blinded by our lights and leaping, live drops of rain. The rain was falling, a mist about his white hair and I kept saying You can't save them all accept it, get back in wev'e got places to go. But, leathery hands full of wet brown life knee deep in summer roadside grass, he just smiled and said They have places to go too.

The female of species is deadlier than the male.

It is important to understand that there are many different ways of seeing the world and expressing the wisdom of Native belief...No one voice speaks for all voices...

I wish you had been there with me in that picture," he used to say to Wilsie and me. "It is so lonely being there forever without another Indian.

I am Squanto. I am known to all those who gather here: English, Pokanoket, Nemasket, even a few of my own surviving Patuxets. I speak to you as a pniese , a man of honor. I will never leave this land. I give thanks for all of our people to the Creator of All Things.

So it is that both this breathing moment and what is called "the future"are always linked with what is called "the past." So it is that dreams become reality, that memories move back and forth between dreams, and that our stories are a swaying, dancing bridge between them.

My story is both strange and true. I was born in the year the English call 1590. My family were leaders of the Patuxet people and I, too, was raised to lead. But in 1614 I was taken to Spain against my will. Now it is 1621 and I am again in my homeland. My name is Squanto. I would like to tell you my tale.

So it was that five days later, on the 22nd of March, I walked with Samoset back into my own village. Once Patuxet, now it was Plymouth. I looked around me. Though much was changed, I knew that I at last had returned to the land of my home.

Hmm. I'm tempted. But what works against my temptation is the ancient junior high code of Omerta. Nobody squeals on nobody, no matter what.

Like the meaning of my name, questions follow me wherever I go.

It is not hard work, because all work together... what one hand finds hard to lift is lighter than a feather when many lift together.

Like most of those who seek to harm the weak, he's a coward at heart.

Perhaps this creature had once been a human, but his lust for power had been so great that he had done the things needed to transform him into a monster bear.

My family is Abenaki Indian on my mother's side. My father's side of the family is Slovak, and we also have some English ancestry.

The Trail of Tears should teach all of us the importance of respect for others who are different from ourselves and compassion for those who have difficulties.

Very good records exist about the Trail of Tears. Journals and other records kept by Cherokees and non-Indians tell such things as which people were where on which day.

It is amazing to me that so little is still known about the Trail of Tears or the lives of the Cherokees themselves.

My own special knowledge is about the Abenaki people and, to some degree, my Iroquois neighbors. But whenever I write anything about another tribal nation, I always get a lot of help. Not just from books, but from people who belong to that tribal nation.

From my teenage years on, I sought out Native elders from many tribal nations and listened to their words. I also started a small press, The Greenfield Review Press, and became very involved with publishing the work of other American Indian authors, especially books of poetry.

I'm inspired by many different things. Often, I'm inspired by experiences I've had, books I've read, people I've met, stories I've heard.

It is important to understand that there are many different ways of seeing the world and expressing the wisdom of Native belief...No one voice speaks for all voices.

To begin with, I want to tell a good story, a story that people will listen to and that they'll think this is true, even if it is a story that might be defined as - as myth or legend or even fanciful.

I think I always knew I would be a writer some day, but it wasn't until I was grown and had children of my own that I turned to telling Native American stories.

I grew up in the small town of Greenfield Center, New York, which is in the foothills of the Adirondacks not far from the city of Saratoga Springs. It is a place I love, close to the forests and the mountains.