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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 20715 | 2020-11-16 21:53:32 | 80.79 | 94% |
| 14342 | 2020-05-12 12:31:29 | 78.93 | 95% |
| 8062 | 2019-06-13 12:23:32 | 78.47 | 95% |