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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6374 | 2017-03-24 11:53:10 | 93.66 | 90% |
| 5999 | 2017-03-06 06:53:05 | 102.58 | 100% |
| 5983 | 2017-03-06 03:11:40 | 88.73 | 94% |