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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 20813 | 2018-05-10 19:09:57 | 94.75 | 98% |
| 20438 | 2018-03-30 14:05:53 | 86.35 | 97% |
| 18275 | 2017-01-01 19:00:44 | 102.89 | 96% |