(Introductory note: This post marks the beginning of a new series on this blog, aptly titled “Recently read.” Every now and then I will try to verbalize afterthoughts inspired by the books I happen to read, and post them here. I hope these recommendations or anti-recommmendations might turn out to be useful for someone.)

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol’n on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew’th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth
That I to manhood am arrived so near;
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits endu’th.
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure ev’n
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav’n:
  All is, if I have grace to use it so,
  As ever in my great Task-Master’s eye.

Not until the next tournament, that is. My achievements in the 12th Scrabble Championship of Warsaw can be described as “mediocre” at best; four won, one drawn and seven lost games mean that my general rating will drop down by two points or so. Oh well. Everybody knows it’s a stupid game. ;-) At least I’ve managed to get a decent small score, with an average of 377 points per game.