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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5417 | 2018-09-05 01:10:07 | 97.96 | 99% |
| 3819 | 2017-01-08 00:49:32 | 80.83 | 93% |
| 3758 | 2016-12-03 02:16:28 | 96.95 | 95% |