Elanor Matton-Johnson

“What’s that?” she asked the girl, wrinkling her nose.

“Oh, that? That’s just Pillover.”

“And what’s a pillover, when it’s at home?”

“My little brother.”

“Ah, I commiserate. I have several of my own. Dashed inconvenient, brothers.”
― Gail Carriger, Etiquette & Espionage

“Spin the parasol three times and repeat after me: I shield in the name of fashion. I accessorize for one and all. Pursuit of truth is my passion. This I vow by the great parasol.”
― Gail Carriger, Heartless

“Isn't Bunson's training evil geniuses?"
"Yes, mostly."
"Well, is that wise? Having a mess of seedling evil geniuses falling in love with you willy-nilly? What if they feel spurned?"

"Ah, but in the interim, think of the lovely gifts they can make you. Monique bragged that one of her boys made her silver and wood hair sticks as anti-supernatural weapons. With amethyst inlay. And another made her an exploding wicker chicken."
"Goodness, what's that for?"

Dimity pursed her lips. "Who doesn't want an exploding wicker chicken?”
― Gail Carriger, Etiquette & Espionage

“Lady Maccon.”
“By George, Boots! How the deuce can you possibly tell that there is Lady Maccon?” queried the other top-hated gentleman.
“Who else would be standing in the middle of a street on full-moon night with a raging ruddy fire behind her, waving a parasol about?”
“Good point, good point.”
― Gail Carriger, Heartless