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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3387 | 2017-09-03 20:49:46 | 84.77 | 97% |
| 2391 | 2017-06-28 22:24:47 | 81.89 | 97% |
| 812 | 2017-06-04 19:25:49 | 78.66 | 96% |