No, it was a false alarm, no one was coming; and seeing that now or never was the time for him to carry out his plan, he picked up the baby, folded the quilted satin coverlet and the fine cambric sheet round it, and covered its face with a lace handkerchief that lay on the pillow; then, feeling that the swansdown quilt might not be warm enough on board the yacht, he glanced round the room, and seeing an Indian shawl which Mathilde often wore lying on a rocking-chair, he wrapped his burden entirely up in this, and then dreading every moment the child should cry and betray him, he stole out of the nursery to the spiral staircase.
— from The Girl's Own Paper, Vol. VIII, No. 354, October 9, 1886 by Various

It is not the selling of his pictures that the artist dreads—that is the necessity of Art as a profession: it is the danger that no one will care about seeing them or buying them.
— from Armorel of Lyonesse: A Romance of To-day by Walter Besant

The next one was called a strike, the third was a ball and the fourth Gibbie rapped for a clean single to right.
— from Won in the Ninth The first of a series of stories for boys on sports to be known as The Matty Books by Christy Mathewson

thou mayst go and lie down in some corner, and no one will come and say to thee a word of comfort!”
— from Cecilia; Or, Memoirs of an Heiress — Volume 3 by Fanny Burney