Enola Holmes

You're being emotional. It's understandable, but unnecessary.

I've come here because I've grown to like you more in your absence.

— Who are you?
— What are you?
— I'm Viscount Tewkesbury, the Marquess of Basilwether.
— You're a nincompoop.

My mother only corresponded with one address with regularity. It was wrong of me to look where it was addressed to, and entirely wrong of me to have memorized it. But when growing up in the countryside, there is little excitement, so one clings to whatever narratives one can get.

It is good to care for the vulnerable, but not if it means risking your life. Sometimes you have to let nature... take its course.

When looking to travel incognito, it's safest to travel as a widow. People are always anxious to avoid conversations about death. Widows scare them, and there's no better disguise than fear.

— I was forced into calligraphy as a child. Hated it, but there's rarely a case where someone's handwriting doesn't tell me something I need to know.
— And what might I learn from deportment?
— The way a person stands may disguise who they are. Nothing's wasted.

— Second question. How did your sister get there before ya?
— I'm sorry?

Enola look in my Chrysanthemums.

— You do make an awful lot of noise, don't you?
— Well, it turns out, being thrown off a train hurts considerably more than you might think. And I've lost a button.

The truth is, I did not ask for Viscount Tewkesbury, Marquess of Basilwether in my life. I did not want the Viscount Tewkesbury, Marquess of Basilwether in my life. So why do I feel responsibility for the Viscount Tewkesbury, Marquess of Basilwether?

— Why, if you're passionate about flowers, would you come to London?
— Because I can be lost here.
— And yet I found you.

— What's made you like me more?
— Really? That is your question? Not "Who is trying to kill me?"