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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 21435 | 2020-09-09 01:38:05 | 101.13 | 96% |
| 18158 | 2020-06-20 22:22:03 | 104.45 | 97% |
| 14255 | 2020-03-21 03:03:41 | 100.41 | 97% |
| 12053 | 2020-02-11 02:33:42 | 96.61 | 97% |
| 10632 | 2020-01-14 02:55:44 | 87.17 | 97% |
| 9186 | 2019-12-07 19:00:35 | 91.85 | 97% |
| 6182 | 2019-10-05 02:02:46 | 92.30 | 97% |