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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10618 | 2020-07-22 14:03:18 | 81.67 | 95% |
| 2322 | 2017-04-18 05:04:18 | 74.67 | 88% |
| 1745 | 2017-04-02 04:15:22 | 78.85 | 91% |
| 1269 | 2017-03-14 04:17:12 | 65.40 | 85% |