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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1333 | 2020-01-12 04:27:43 | 65.29 | 95% |
| 560 | 2019-10-30 22:46:59 | 62.92 | 95% |
| 77 | 2019-06-13 03:54:22 | 55.92 | 94% |