Cree Quotes

We don't put gender roles on our marriage and our relationship. If I'm working a lot and Cory's home, he will put Cree to bed, and if dishes need to be washed, he will wash them. So it's not like, 'Oh, I'm going to wait until my wife gets home, and she's going to be doing all that.' ~ Tia Mowry

Indigenous people have been tracking the same 'psychic virus' for many centuries, calling it 'wetiko' in Cree (windigo in Ojibwa, wintiko in Powhatan), a term that refers to a biologically wicked person or spirit who terrorizes others by means of evil acts. ~ Paul Levy

I found this deer toy that poops out candy. And so if I say, 'Cree, you have to go to bed right now. You will get a candy.' We've named the pooping deer 'Gus.' ... He gets a jelly bean. And it works. Positive reinforcement is the way to go. I'm learning things like that which help me be a better parent. ~ Tia Mowry

Death will find me long before I tire of contemplating an evening spent in his company during which he enthralled a mixed audience consisting of a fur trader, a Cree Indian matron, and an Anglican missionary, with an hour-long monologue on sexual aberrations in female pygmy shrews. (The trader misconstrued the tenor of the discourse; but the missionary, inured by years of humorless dissertations, soon put him right.) ~ Farley Mowat

Ignorance has never been the problem. The problem was and continues to be unexamined confidence in western civilization and the unwarranted certainty of Christianity. And arrogance. Perhaps it is unfair to judge the past by the present, but it is also necessary.

If nothing else, an examination of the past - and of the present, for that matter - can be instructive. It shows us that there is little shelter and little gain for Native peoples in doing nothing. So long as we possess one element of sovereignty, so long as we possess one parcel of land, North America will come for us, and the question we have to face is how badly we wish to continue to pursue the concepts of sovereignty and self-determination. How important is it for us to maintain protected communal homelands? Are our traditions and languages worth the cost of carrying on the fight? Certainly the easier and more expedient option is simply to step away from who we are and who we wish to be, sell what we have for cash, and sink into the stewpot of North America.

With the rest of the bones.

No matter how you frame Native history, the one inescapable constant is that Native people in North America have lost much. We've given away a great deal, we've had a great deal taken from us, and, if we are not careful, we will continue to lose parts of ourselves - as Indians, as Cree, as Blackfoot, as Navajo, as Inuit - with each generation. But this need not happen. Native cultures aren't static. ~ Thomas King

Gotcha." Her smile was smug as she held her elbow against his windpipe, her thighs clenching around his shoulders.

"I planned this," he grunted.

"Yeah sure--keep telling yourself that, ghost boy."

"You like being my prisoner, don't you?"

"Take off your pants," he mumured...

"I'm supposed to be back at ACRO soon."

"Not before you come atleast three times."

"Is that so?"

"Pants Annika," he repeated..

"Sit.On.My.Face."

"Now who's giving orders," she murmured

~Cree and Annika ~ Sydney Croft

Pretty," said Cree. "It was very pretty." She giggled as she stroked her green nails over her cheeks and smiled at Riley. "I suppose I let the poison go too long. I killed my parents and my younger brother and the cat. I do miss the cat. ~ E.E. Martin

You must know where you came from yesterday, know where you are today, to know where you're going tomorrow." -Cree saying ~ Trace A. DeMeyer

When we deal with the name and reputation of another we deal with something sacred in the sight of the Lord. ~ Cree-L Kofford

Only when the last tree is cut; only when the last river is polluted; only when the last fish is caught; only then will they realize that you cannot eat money." The Cree Indians ~ Terry Ross

Abruptly the drumbeat softens into heartbeat. The camera becomes his eye. This was what had summoned him - a human heart beating from within a ripped-off, rolled-up tiny piece of cloth. A discarded newborn. Black. A useless, half-dead, famished, thrown-away boy. The madwoman's? No, she's beyond childbearing years. He approaches, his steps making no sound at all. When he reaches down to turn it over, the thing quivers. Suddenly Milo's brain fills with a soft cascade of men and women's voices from the past in French and English, German and Dutch, Cree and Gaelic. They gurgle and babble and blend as he stares at the unwanted infant. Is it breathing? Yes, ~ Nancy Huston

I passed the friendship centre and nodded to an old couple on the porch. Kookum smiled back and nodded, a cotton kerchief on her head. Moshum's eyes squinted, too, but never looked straight at me, just glanced my presence once, and that was enough. Old school. I knew that when they stood up to hobble home, he would lead a few feet ahead, and she would follow. They grew up in the bush and still walked the same way, as if the wide road was nothing more than a narrow path through the muskeg and spruce. ~ Joseph Boyden