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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 16451 | 2017-12-06 14:53:52 | 99.95 | 99% |
| 9827 | 2017-11-09 22:35:18 | 101.50 | 99% |
| 7738 | 2017-11-01 14:39:50 | 104.56 | 99% |
| 6610 | 2017-10-28 22:33:45 | 99.01 | 99% |
| 5885 | 2017-10-27 10:49:51 | 95.93 | 98% |
| 4433 | 2017-10-24 13:50:50 | 84.36 | 97% |
| 3752 | 2017-10-23 14:05:59 | 108.72 | 99% |
| 3079 | 2017-10-17 15:16:38 | 100.29 | 99% |