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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10952 | 2017-05-05 15:10:59 | 63.34 | 92% |
| 10913 | 2017-05-04 04:34:59 | 55.42 | 85% |
| 8988 | 2017-03-03 04:08:51 | 54.36 | 90% |
| 8804 | 2017-02-22 09:06:08 | 57.32 | 93% |
| 8161 | 2017-01-30 10:32:04 | 52.37 | 90% |