Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Eskimo. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Eskimo Quotes And Sayings by 99 Authors including Silas Weir Mitchell,Marta Acosta,Kirsten Beyer,Chaske Spencer,Barry Lopez for you to enjoy and share.
The arctic loneliness of age.
Tell me something in your native woodland language.
What species is he?" "British
I'm Lakota Sioux.
And one can better understand figures in arctic exploration so obsessed with their own achievement that they found it irksome to acknowledge the Eskimos, unnamed companions, and indefatigable dogs who helped them.
The Eskimos have thirty words for describing different kinds of snow, and modern Russian has about the same number of expressions to describe giving a bribe to a state official.
I'm a first-generation Canadian.
The Arctic has a call that is compelling. The distant mountains [of the Brooks Range in Alaska] make one want to go on and on over the next ridge and over the one beyond. The call is that of a wilderness known only to a few ... This last American wilderness must remain sacrosanct.
I could say "Elves" to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself.
aborigine, angry, beautiful, fiery, fearless, remorseless and untouchable, overly
to be indigenous is to protect life on earth.
British. My mother
I've been very influenced by Inuit art especially some drawings and watercolors I've seen.
Basically the sort of guy who looks entirely at home in sockless white loafers and a mint-green knit shirt from Lacoste.
He says Canadians are scary.
To experience the northern forest in the raw, I went to northern Finland and Lapland, travelling on horseback, and sleeping on reindeer skins in the traditional open-fronted Finnish laavu. I ate elk heart, reindeer and lingonberries, and tried out spruce resin: the chewing gum of the Stone Age.
Everyone loves a Canadian.
Are they Russian by way of the Ozarks?
I'm an air-conditioned gypsy.
outsider. You do what you want, say what you want, and move on when you've worn out your welcome.
It All Started with a Moose
I'm just an average Canadian kid playing hockey.
Hey, igloo-face, that's not cool,
When you live in Vancouver, you realize most of the population is in eastern North America.
I can be described as many things, but no description of me is complete without saying 'Englishman.' My parents were from Liverpool and emigrated to Canada before I was born.
Canadian stereotypes. "In the east they are less polite than in the west.
Wheat-Thinned Slut Monkey.
A slut born out of masculine persuasion.
The Arctic is among the least understood places on the planet; however, we do know that its landscape is changing and evolving as quickly as cell phones and the Internet.
I support the indigenous people anywhere in the planet.
My mother's Mohawk and my father is Scottish/German from Nova Scotia.
I am a Westerner of Westerners!
Alaskans are basically 'leave me alone' type people who respect and embrace different strokes.
Alien - an American sovereign in his probationary state.
People look at me and they don't see what they think is a typical Aboriginal.
she's part Armenian,
Belgian stranger - all
A mental midget with the IQ of a fence post.
Tribally speaking...
An Inuit hunter asked the local missionary priest: If I did not know about God and sin, would I go to hell? No, said the priest, not if you did not know. Then why, asked the Inuit earnestly, did you tell me?
Mom talks about moving to Canada as though my father had requested she start wearing fun hats. "Why not try it?" she thought, instead of "This fucking lunatic wants me to go to a country made of ice and casual racism.
It is cold outside.Cold-- Gul Yildiz
An admission of extreme otherness,
Once there was a moose, a very poor, thin, lonely moose who lived on a rocky hill where only bitter leaves grew and bushes with spiky branches. One day a red motor car drove past. In the backseat was
a grey gypsy dog wearing a gold earring.
I am an Aleut." "Oh, I've never heard of that." "That's because we've been fucked over," the big scary Aleut says, "worse than any other people in history.
I'm unique - a cosmopolitan mix.
Could be anyone. The Kin. I mean ... it's like calling yourselves the People. It's what pretty much every race-name means. Except for Dalek. That means Metal-Cased Hatey Death Machines in Skaronian.
He's a Canadian. I've not much more to say about him." "Isn't he a tall, fit, strapping fellow? A handsome guy, a good-looker with fair hair down to his shoulders?" "Yes," Camille said wairly. "How do you know that as well." "All Canadians are like that. Isn't that so?
I feel pride in being a Greenlander.
No one in the world needs a mink coat but a mink.
There was a young man of Quebec
Who was frozen in snow to his neck,
When asked, 'Are you Friz?'
He replied, 'Yes I is,
But we don't call this cold in Quebec.'
I take a deep breath and put on my best smile. You could sell ice to Eskimos, my dad always says, and looking at this crowd, I think I'm going to have to be quite the salesman.
to plan for a return to the Arctic. One
I can speak Esperanto like a native.
A veteran of the gender wars.
Dukhoborcheskaya
I'm a member of the American Indian Movement, and I'm from the indigenous nations of the Western Hemisphere.
The Arctic is a highway. The tree limit, the scarcity of trees, freed people to walk. Particularly in the wintertime. Which connected people physically, communicatively. And mythically. The long nights of winter free people to tell. And to listen ...
I'm proud of my Native American heritage,
Two races share today the soil of Canada. These people had not always been friends. But I hasten to say it. There is no longer any family here but the human family. It matters not the language people speak, or the altars at which they kneel.
I am a Shawnee. My forefathers were warriors. Their son is a warrior. From them, I take my only existence.
Hi, I'm Mike Huckabee of Arkansas, wanting to say "Congratulations, Canada, on preserving your national igloo".
In 1982 I was playing soccer at William and Mary, and a kid from Randolph-Macon called me a kike. I ran after him. 'I'm not a ... well, yes I am.
Gee, I wasn't as up on my Native American traditions as the chick who used to call herself Faun fucking Windsong even though she was fifteen sixteenths as lily-white as me. Imagine that.
Nobody needs a mink coat but the mink.
Don't try to tell me what I am because I know what I am not-- Amit Abraham
And what exotic part of the world do you come from?
Im a glacier in a sea of idiots
Stranger: Do you believe in Jesus, my friend?
Foreigner: O yes, I do but who the hell are you?
I am just a nice, clean-cut Mongolian boy.
If eskimos can come up with fifty words for snow because its a matter of life and death, why do we have just one word for love?
I'm a Canadian. I've always been a Canadian.
There are few, if any, Canadian men that have never spelled their name in a snow bank.
I'm from a Gypsy background!
MOOSEN!!!!!!! There many MOOSEN in the WOODSEN! MANY MUCH MOOSEN! The Meisin wanted and the MOOSEN and ...
Half-Christian, half-Jewish, a 'cathjew nut',
As a kid in British Columbia, going back a long way, I learned to skate.
To reaffirm the statement on the choosing of my identity, I come from two beautiful cultures which I have embraced, bridged, balanced, and identify with. I am proud to be who I am as a Dine' (Navajo) and Nahilii (African American) woman. Hozho', , & blessings
I consider myself a product of Alaska. The love and the debt that I feel to my home state - you always want your hometown to be the proudest of you, and so it's heartbreaking to hear people say snarky things.
No contact with savage Indian tribes has ever daunted me more than the morning I spent with an old lady swathed in woolies who compared herself to a rotten herring encased in a block of ice.
Bohemian - a respectable sort of tramp.
I'm just as white as I am black, and I'm just as Russian Jew as I am West Indian.
A werewolf. He said the word like he was learning a foreign language and wanted to get the accent right.
Idiot, n. A member of a large and powerful tribe whose influence in human affairs has always been dominant and controlling.
The Canadian is often a baffled man because he feels different from his British kindred and his American neighbours, sharply refused to be lumped together with either of them, yet cannot make plain his difference.
She's Cherokee Indian, which is great 'cause whenever we have sex, it rains.
I'm half Egyptian, and I'm Muslim. But I grew up in Canada, far from my Arab roots. Like so many who straddle East and West, I've been drawn, over the years, to try to better understand my origins.
Scratch a Russian, and you'll find a peasant.
I'll be a Quebecker-Canadian. I'm from Quebec, and every time I go to a country, I say that. It's my roots, my origins, and it's the most important thing to me.
I have been called many things in my life, but if there has been but one constant, one barb, one arrow flung my way time after time, it is the accusation that I am, in essence, nothing more than an escapist. Apparently this is bad, suspect, possibly even un-American.
It seems to me that Canadian sensibility has been profoundly disturbed, not so much by our famous problem of identity, important as that is, as by a series of paradoxes in what confronts that identity. It is less perplexed by the question "Who am I?" than by some such riddle as "Where is here?
I don't really think of most non-English as people, more or less indigenous squirrels that I fancy to kick around with my snakeskin French Persian Boots
I'm a black kid from Biloxi, Han-Han. What the fuck do I know about hockey?
I'm a Canada walnut ... WHAT?!
Why are there no great women artists?' sounds as ignorant of human geography as the query 'Why are there no Eskimo tennis teams?
I cannot but conclude that the Bulk of your Natives, to be the most pernicious Race of little odious Vermin that Nature ever suffered to crawl upon the Surface of the Earth.
There are Russians, and then there are Russian ballerinas from the Kirov.
A flip dark chill winter bastard though dry
Canadian is both harder and easier to explain. Nobody knows what it is even supposed to be, let far-out-alone what it actually is.
When I read about how 200 people died on a polar expedition, I wonder why they didn't get to know the Inuit people who were around and presumably know something about surviving in the Arctic after living there for thousands of years. Talking to people is a survival mechanism.