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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2500 | 2018-07-03 21:49:22 | 155.71 | 99% |
| 1790 | 2018-06-04 22:24:05 | 158.92 | 99% |
| 1561 | 2018-05-27 21:19:17 | 164.32 | 99% |