Dances with Wolves

He had fallen in love with this wild, beautiful country and everything it contained. It was the kind of love people dream of having with other people: selfless and free of doubt, reverent and everlasting.

He did not belong to the Indians. He did not belong to the whites. And it was not time for him to belong to the stars. He belonged right where he was. He belonged nowhere.

There are times when a person wants something so badly that price or condition cease to be obstacles.

The first rosy streaks of dawn had broken through the darkness and he watched them in awe as he walked, oblivious to the pant legs that were already sopping with dew. Every day begins with a miracle, he thought suddenly. The streaks were growing larger, changing colors by the second.

Lieutenant Dunbar had fallen in love. He had fallen in love with this wild, beautiful country and everything it contained. It was the kind of love people dream of having with other people: selfless and free of doubt, reverent and everlasting. His

Il tenente Dumbar non era realmente inghiottito. Ma quella fu la prima parola che gli si fissò in mente. Tutto era immenso. Quel vasto cielo azzurro senza una nube. Quell'oceano d'erba che ondeggiava al vento. Null'altro, fino a dove riusciva a spingere lo sguardo. Non una pista, non una traccia di sochi lasciati da altre ruote che il carro potesse seguire. Solo lo spazio, assoluto e vuoto