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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6690 | 2018-12-13 09:15:42 | 60.23 | 97% |
| 6115 | 2018-10-18 10:40:08 | 56.32 | 96% |
| 4968 | 2017-03-02 10:12:31 | 53.87 | 91% |