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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 12660 | 2018-04-08 20:39:41 | 98.81 | 98% |
| 11534 | 2018-03-09 22:26:56 | 88.77 | 98% |
| 4795 | 2017-12-22 18:34:49 | 85.39 | 98% |
| 4750 | 2017-12-22 04:48:51 | 83.05 | 98% |
| 4444 | 2017-12-19 22:20:54 | 84.25 | 98% |