"Lay On, Macduff"

                 I will not yield
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet
And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnam Wood be come to Dunsinane
And thou opposed being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last.  Before my body,
I throw my warlike shield.  Lay on, Macduff,
And damned be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'

          Shakespeare's Macbeth, 5.8.3334


Macbeth's final lines, though not his final appearance in the play . . . .

Looking Into Mortality

Because I can't help myself.

Poor Motley-girl feeling miserable: last day.
20 years old.

Profiles In Courage

Beaks of clay . . . .

Graves: "Heroes of the Nursery"

THE BEACH

Louder than gulls the little children scream 
Whom fathers haul into the jovial foam; 
But others fearlessly rush in, breast high, 
Laughing the salty water from their mouthes-- 
Heroes of the nursery. 

The horny boatman, who has seen whales 
And flying fishes, who has sailed as far 
As Demerara and the Ivory Coast, 
Will warn them, when they crowd to hear his tales, 
That every ocean smells of tar. 

--Robert Graves