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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1299 | 2018-03-19 23:58:52 | 78.09 | 96% |
| 558 | 2017-09-29 21:36:03 | 66.52 | 94% |
| 412 | 2017-09-26 22:08:25 | 81.77 | 96% |