Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
2888 | 2017-10-06 04:16:11 | 99.18 | 98% |
2451 | 2017-08-06 06:52:39 | 88.90 | 97% |
2255 | 2017-07-12 22:45:02 | 89.76 | 97% |
1023 | 2017-04-06 01:16:26 | 75.86 | 93% |