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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 17998 | 2017-10-03 23:44:24 | 169.77 | 98% |
| 13940 | 2017-04-07 00:51:58 | 181.83 | 97% |
| 12902 | 2017-01-24 04:07:07 | 133.97 | 88% |