“That's how I do this life sometimes by making the ordinary just like magic and just like a card trick and just like a mirror and just like the disappearing. Every Indian learns how to be a magician and learns how to misdirect attention and the dark hand is always quicker than the white eye and no matter how close you get to my heart you will never find out my secrets and I'll never tell you and I'll never show you the same trick twice. I'm traveling heavy with illusions.”
“...it's like this white-Indian thing has gotten out of control. And the thing with the blacks and the Mexicans. Everybody blaming everybody...I don't know what happened. I can't explain it all. Just look around at the world. Look at this country. Things just aren't like they used to be.''Son, things have never been like what you think they used to be.”
“(Marie)...It's not like we're planning a rebellion. We're just putting food in our cupboards. If eating is rebellious, then I guess we're the biggest rebels out there. Indians are just plain hungry. Not for power. Not for money. For food, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner..."(Dr. Mather) "There you go again, creating an antagonisitc situation. Don't you understand what I'm trying to teach? I'm trying to present a positive portrait of Indian peoples, of your people. Of you. I simply cannot do that if you insist on this kind of confrontational relationship...”
“You must be a rich man," she said. "Not much of a warrior, though. You keep letting me sneak up on you."You don't surprise me," he said. "The Plains Indians had women who rode their horses eighteen hours a day. They could shoot seven arrows consecutively, have them all in the air at the same time. They were the best light cavalry in the world." Just my luck," she said. "An educated Indian."Yeah," he said. "Reservation University."They both laughed at the old joke. Every Indian is an alumnus.Where you from?" she asked.Wellpinit," he said. "I'm a Spokane."I should've known. You got those fisherman's hands."Ain't no salmon left in our river. Just a school bus and a few hundred basketballs."What the hell you talking about?"Our basketball team drives into the river and drowns every year," he said. "It's a tradition."She laughed. "You're just a storyteller, ain't you?"I'm just telling you things before they happen," he said. "The same things sons and daughters will tell your mothers and fathers."Do you ever answer a question straight?"Depends on the question," he said.Do you want to be my powwow paradise?”
“.. but I know somebody must be thinking about us because if they weren't we'd just disappear just like those Indians who used to climb the pueblos. Those Indians disappeared with food still cooking in the pot and air waiting to be breathed and they turned into birds or dust or the blue of the sky or the yellow of the sun.There they were and suddenly they were forgotten for just a second and for just a second nobody thought about them and then they were gone.”
“Hey, Arnold," he said. I looked up 'in love with a white girl' on Google and found and article about that white girl named Cynthia who disappeared in Mexico last summer. You remember how her face was all over the papers and everybody said it was such a sad thing?""I kinda remember," I said."Well this article said that over two hundred Mexican girls have disappeared in the last three years in that same part of the country. And nobody says much about that. And that's racist. The guy who wrote the article says people care more about beautiful white girls than they do about everybody else on the planet. White girls are privileged. They're damsels in distress."So what does that mean?" I asked."I think it means you're just a racist asshole like everybody else.”
“James tells the crowd that the river is just a few yards from where we stand is all we ever need to believe in. One white woman asks how old James is and I tell her he's seven and she tells me that he's so smart for an Indian boy. James hears this and tells the white woman that she's pretty smart for an old white woman.”