"In summer an idle sea stretched broad-bosomed and dreaming between skylines-for days at a time too indolent to stir more than just enough to betray its eternal restlessness. Across its glittering reaches wavelets, in sabbath mood, billowed lazily; finding an islet or skerry, they would rise, curious; then they would murmur on along headlands and around venturesome points, but purl more softly against the beaches of coves." - O. E. Rolvaag, Boat of Longing