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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4088 | 2019-09-30 03:54:40 | 92.41 | 98% |
| 3138 | 2019-05-01 19:19:33 | 77.54 | 97% |
| 2149 | 2019-02-03 22:38:54 | 89.15 | 98% |
| 1102 | 2018-12-09 11:43:28 | 73.26 | 96% |