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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2324 | 2017-08-17 05:44:21 | 72.62 | 95% |
| 352 | 2017-01-16 20:23:30 | 50.97 | 87% |
| 79 | 2016-12-24 13:44:09 | 47.87 | 90% |