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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1124 | 2017-06-06 12:57:58 | 71.14 | 97% |
| 1102 | 2017-06-05 10:04:40 | 63.60 | 95% |
| 295 | 2017-03-25 08:50:49 | 56.47 | 94% |