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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10147 | 2020-07-04 09:42:44 | 66.80 | 98% |
| 7955 | 2020-03-11 21:27:34 | 76.08 | 99% |
| 4342 | 2018-09-05 06:40:46 | 65.08 | 99% |