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 |
---|---|---|---|
2451 | 2019-06-13 08:12:29 | 102.08 | 96% |
2329 | 2019-05-23 02:59:36 | 107.60 | 98% |
126 | 2019-03-30 01:09:57 | 106.82 | 97% |