I am Latin America.
A people without legs that’s walking all the same. You cannot buy the wind
You cannot buy the sun
You cannot buy the rain
You cannot buy the heat. You cannot buy the clouds
You cannot buy the colours
You cannot buy my happiness
You cannot buy my pains.

Among the savage nations of hunters and fishers, every individual who is able to work, is more or less employed in useful labour (…) Such nations, however, are so miserably poor that, from mere want, (…) to the necessity sometimes of directly destroying, and sometimes of abandoning their infants, their old people, (…) Among civilised and thriving nations, on the contrary, though a great number of people do not labour at all (…) yet the produce of the whole labour of the society is so great that all are often abundantly supplied.

Domination of nature includes domination of people.

One digs into the earth in the hunt for wealth (…). We penetrate her bowels and look for treasures at the seat of the shadows, as if she were not sufficiently benevolent and fertile where one can walk on her (…).

Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.

And so they say we came to this earth to destroy the world. They say the winds ravage the houses and cut the trees and the fire scorches them. But we would devour everything, we would use up the earth, divert the rivers, we would never be quiet, would never rest, but always rush from here to there, looking for gold and silver, and then we would gamble with them, wage war, kill each other, rob each other, curse, never tell the truth, and we would have robbed them of their livelihood.

Wonderfully shameless people of both sexes behave towards one another like wild animals, only the pubic area covered, everything else naked, all black
(…) their houses resemble the huts of the poor villagers in our country (…) this people does not yet make use of money.

Leave the Oil in the Soil, Leave the Coal in the Hole, Leave the Gas under the Grass.

But not satisfied with this kindness, man enters the bowels of his mother [earth], rummaging through her womb, injuring and damaging all internal parts. In the end, he tears the whole body to pieces and completely paralyses its powers.

I drive on slowly, anxiously avoiding any swerving into the restricted area that begins next to an old wagon track. And so I arrive at an outpost, at the extreme tip of this last farm, which has been measured deep into the cocoa field. Every culture really comes to an end here. Here man is really nothing, powerful nature is everything.

We don‘t want tourist hotels! Whites, get out!

The modern view of nature is ultimately also the background against which women’s work, colonial areas and peasant production are seen as economically irrelevant […].

Life is but a motion of limbs. For what is the heart, but a spring; and the nerves, but so many strings; and the joints, but so many wheels, giving motion to the whole body, such as was intended by the Artificer?

Nothing the Great Mystery placed in the land of the Indian pleased the white man, and nothing escaped his transforming hand. Wherever forests have not been mowed down, wherever the animal is recessed in their quiet protection, wherever the earth is not bereft of four-footed life – that to him is an “unbroken wilderness”.

This struggle to defend the trees and forests is above all a struggle against imperialism. Imperialism is the arsonist setting fire to our forests and our savannahs.

All of the Indians, generally speaking, have such a horror and fear of hospitals, that it is not possible to persuade them to go to them to be healed, because they respond that they will die.

Our forest is humid and does not allow fire to spread inside it. The fires occur in practically the same places where indigenous people and mixed-race farmers burn their gardens in already deforested areas.

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