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 |
---|---|---|---|
5977 | 2020-11-16 13:04:43 | 84.00 | 97% |
5557 | 2018-10-07 06:15:20 | 88.52 | 96% |
4259 | 2018-02-03 13:27:45 | 69.28 | 96% |
786 | 2017-06-13 06:35:10 | 77.57 | 95% |