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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9372 | 2020-06-14 16:02:36 | 167.75 | 98% |
| 6818 | 2020-03-31 14:32:40 | 156.04 | 99% |
| 5511 | 2019-04-14 17:33:44 | 170.21 | 99% |