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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3459 | 2017-01-27 20:31:39 | 99.78 | 95% |
| 3218 | 2017-01-24 04:43:37 | 89.36 | 92% |
| 2806 | 2017-01-09 21:06:15 | 95.98 | 94% |
| 2068 | 2016-12-12 18:45:56 | 93.21 | 93% |
| 1531 | 2016-11-24 06:09:55 | 80.33 | 91% |