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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7924 | 2017-06-28 20:47:56 | 64.02 | 95% |
| 6837 | 2017-06-09 17:10:42 | 62.76 | 95% |
| 4861 | 2017-05-08 14:45:42 | 65.07 | 95% |
| 3272 | 2017-04-11 18:02:11 | 43.68 | 84% |