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 |
---|---|---|---|
16526 | 2020-05-17 08:25:16 | 141.65 | 98% |
7201 | 2018-07-27 02:54:02 | 127.29 | 96% |
5532 | 2018-06-02 01:09:30 | 149.87 | 98% |