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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 16260 | 2020-11-17 02:28:10 | 84.78 | 96% |
| 8392 | 2019-07-26 00:49:30 | 82.87 | 96% |
| 7769 | 2019-07-07 12:26:01 | 87.50 | 97% |
| 3082 | 2019-03-16 02:03:31 | 65.09 | 95% |
| 2706 | 2019-03-09 12:07:59 | 67.37 | 96% |