But now there was a rainbow of colour in her heart, no longer dulled with the jet of despair but tinged with a hint of gold, the colour of love. That was enough for now.
The Wedding Dress Maker: An unputdownable story of love, loss and the power of dreams | 
But now there was a rainbow of colour in her heart, no longer dulled with the jet of despair but tinged with a hint of gold, the colour of love. That was enough for now.
Follow what you love and it will lead you where you need to go…
The colour of a heart, my mother used to say, is lightened or darkened by shades of kindness and thoughtfulness, putting others at their ease, warmth and generosity. It‘s not the splash of brightness on the outside, all the clothes and possessions, but what‘s inside of us that matters.
‘An idle brain is the divil‘s forge.'
No one hands success to you on a plate. You have to work every step of the way, every stitch of the way in your case, if you want to make your mark. Work hard and play hard.
So you can‘t have the boy back yet? So you failed at the last hurdle? That‘s no reason to give up now. It‘s not the size of the dog in a fight, it‘s the fight in the dog, Izzy used to say.
Parenthood was not some ready-to-wear garment you could slip on and off when it suited. It was like a shift, a hair shirt at times. You wore it all the time and it could scratch and pinch next to the skin.
One day she would have her own place with a garden where her son could play and roam safely, a place where she would be proud to entertain her relatives, set high above the twinkling lights of the town. One day she would make them all proud of her.
‘By putting one foot in front of the other, slowly, until a path opens up before you. One day this strange journey will make sense to you but not now. It is too soon. Remember, a mountain is climbed from the foothills. Find some of your own people, they will help you.‘
Follow what you love and it will lead you where you need to go.
Still, it‘s no the size of the dog in a fight but the fight in the dog.
How drab now were the colours of war – mourning, blackouts, khaki and camouflage – against the rainbow colours of their courtship. How could she ever set the heather ablaze without his inspiration?
The acid of bitterness corrodes away goodness and resolve.
Love knows no rules or regulations, no rations and blackouts, curfews and call-ups.
But when love was this urgent it had to be obeyed and to hell with the consequences which would surely follow their deception.
When sorrow sleeps best wake it not.
‘We have to set the heather on fire, Miss Nichol. Make our mark however small… leave something more than footprints in the sand or it‘s all a waste of time.
You don‘t choose the moment when love races like a rip tide, flooding over the shore, she thought. You don‘t choose your passion. It pulses like blood through your veins and roars up behind you in a leather helmet, setting the heather on fire with its heat.
How strange that people could cross your path for the briefest of moments and yet leave their mark on you for the rest of your life.
‘She pleases the eye, as well you ken, but it‘s the colour of her heart which will be the making of her. Rainbows are nothing but tricks o‘ light on water and there‘s no ark without tears, Jeanie.‘
‘What‘s the world without colour, Angus Nichol? Why, the very ark of the rainbow is in the child – the sunset in her hair, the sea-shifts blue and green in her eyes, the sand and pebbles dust her cheeks. Is she not a very rainbow of God‘s mercy?‘ Her loving words made Netta‘s red hair and freckles just about bearable.