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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 11762 | 2020-03-07 08:32:23 | 62.37 | 96% |
| 11382 | 2020-02-13 08:11:16 | 56.47 | 95% |
| 8338 | 2018-03-03 12:33:26 | 67.75 | 98% |