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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2635 | 2017-11-12 11:11:05 | 100.65 | 98% |
| 1490 | 2017-06-22 21:24:42 | 103.70 | 98% |
| 910 | 2017-04-16 21:11:33 | 93.75 | 94% |
| 217 | 2017-02-27 22:32:06 | 88.72 | 94% |