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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2226 | 2017-12-26 01:43:33 | 72.93 | 97% |
| 727 | 2016-11-24 00:45:47 | 64.38 | 89% |
| 456 | 2016-11-14 23:22:43 | 56.53 | 88% |