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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1824 | 2018-12-21 23:05:55 | 73.15 | 94% |
| 1712 | 2017-12-02 04:15:20 | 93.61 | 97% |
| 1680 | 2017-11-10 01:29:55 | 99.96 | 97% |
| 1428 | 2017-04-23 23:59:43 | 101.90 | 95% |