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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 799 | 2020-05-04 22:30:27 | 97.09 | 95% |
| 86 | 2019-08-18 10:39:35 | 81.99 | 97% |
| 12 | 2018-08-13 12:22:33 | 84.64 | 95% |