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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7601 | 2017-11-06 13:26:00 | 97.88 | 98% |
| 6581 | 2017-09-10 09:54:56 | 100.78 | 98% |
| 5554 | 2017-08-04 14:09:57 | 103.33 | 98% |
| 4754 | 2017-07-09 09:39:52 | 94.88 | 98% |