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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7050 | 2020-02-16 02:07:43 | 87.65 | 98% |
| 3721 | 2017-01-26 20:33:56 | 88.56 | 95% |
| 1804 | 2017-01-01 00:47:29 | 87.13 | 98% |
| 1639 | 2016-12-31 20:59:42 | 81.03 | 95% |
| 1145 | 2016-12-25 19:13:13 | 69.65 | 92% |