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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4609 | 2018-03-23 02:28:43 | 78.99 | 97% |
| 1924 | 2017-06-05 21:43:35 | 70.71 | 97% |
| 631 | 2017-03-31 10:01:46 | 60.27 | 91% |
| 105 | 2017-02-08 09:31:16 | 49.51 | 88% |