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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3786 | 2020-12-06 04:05:37 | 89.55 | 97% |
| 3196 | 2020-11-25 19:47:05 | 95.17 | 97% |
| 1186 | 2020-11-12 04:23:12 | 94.32 | 97% |