Just finished reading this book by Heather Barbieri and loved this quote:
All that day and into the evening, their fingers flew. The patterns of the lace were everywhere, if the women opened their minds and looked past the sorrow: in a horse's mane, butterfly's wings, blades of grass, springs of ivy, spiderwebs, drops of rain, the waves of the sea, the feathers of a lark, the lines on a face, in their very own hands. The lace could be anything they wanted it to be. It was the lace of dreams, the lace of their imagination. At the end of the day, they looked at their callused fingers, amazed they'd made such extraordianry things, the threads connecting each woman to the one beside her, and out into the wider world. "It's about all of us, isn't it?" Oona said, touching the back of Colleen's chairs. "All of us, together, still."
Cheers,
Laura