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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 31396 | 2019-10-12 17:09:36 | 122.47 | 98% |
| 26748 | 2018-03-19 17:10:58 | 117.13 | 98% |
| 14235 | 2016-11-11 22:04:20 | 96.05 | 91% |
| 14234 | 2016-11-11 22:02:16 | 106.46 | 94% |