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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 19808 | 2018-12-15 03:02:21 | 89.27 | 97% |
| 16899 | 2018-09-24 12:13:38 | 79.01 | 97% |
| 15235 | 2018-04-21 06:17:56 | 80.78 | 97% |