"If I must die, you must live to tell my story, to sell my things, to buy a piece of cloth and some strings (make it white with a long tail), so that a child, somewhere in Gaza, while looking heaven in the eye, awaiting his dad who left in a blaze — and bid no one farewell, not even to his flesh, not even to himself — sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above, and thinks for a moment an angel is there.
If I must die, let it bring hope, let it be a tale."
—Refaat Alareer, murdered this morning by the Israeli government
