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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 17801 | 2020-12-12 15:31:51 | 88.60 | 99% |
| 12480 | 2019-06-10 19:20:40 | 80.78 | 97% |
| 4694 | 2018-10-06 06:14:38 | 59.93 | 95% |