Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 75 | 2018-04-15 18:21:20 | 40.30 | 91% |
| 16 | 2018-04-14 14:12:37 | 48.04 | 94% |