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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 55401 | 2019-03-08 20:08:02 | 114.69 | 98% |
| 52457 | 2018-06-10 09:18:31 | 106.34 | 97% |
| 52160 | 2018-06-07 15:39:37 | 116.15 | 97% |