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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4453 | 2017-07-06 16:20:08 | 136.91 | 100% |
| 3596 | 2017-06-28 08:36:25 | 140.97 | 100% |
| 3521 | 2017-06-27 21:45:41 | 116.58 | 98% |
| 3089 | 2017-06-20 07:34:00 | 134.67 | 100% |
| 2217 | 2017-06-08 06:00:02 | 127.96 | 100% |
| 73 | 2017-04-14 09:15:51 | 120.76 | 99% |