Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.

Death is a reality… Life ends definitely when the subject, by his actions, no longer affects his environment… He can no longer add an iota to the sum total of his experience

Our death is not an end if we have lived on in our children and the younger generations. For they are us; our bodies are only wilted leaves on the tree of life.

The old who have died live on in the young ones. Don’t you feel this now in your bereavement, when you look at your children?

The fear of death is the most unjustified of all fears, for there’s no risk of accident for someone who’s dead.

Beauty intoxicates the eyes, as wine does the body; both are morally fatal if indulged.

The next time someone tells you we can trim the budget by cutting aid, I hope you will ask whether it will come at the cost of more people dying.

According to Ethiopian custom, parents wait to name a baby because children often die in the first weeks of life.

There are more people dying of malaria than any specific cancer.