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 |
---|---|---|---|
10900 | 2020-05-07 08:58:20 | 84.93 | 96% |
10743 | 2019-11-20 05:41:28 | 89.83 | 96% |
4010 | 2018-01-26 14:45:50 | 78.78 | 94% |
2826 | 2017-12-06 17:34:14 | 72.19 | 95% |