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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 19418 | 2020-12-09 05:45:13 | 123.57 | 98% |
| 15083 | 2020-10-29 00:13:11 | 128.52 | 98% |
| 11654 | 2020-09-22 07:29:08 | 124.70 | 98% |
| 7017 | 2020-08-02 21:01:55 | 118.58 | 97% |
| 6992 | 2020-08-02 09:34:18 | 112.22 | 97% |
| 6101 | 2020-07-15 00:11:21 | 111.43 | 96% |
| 4234 | 2020-06-14 23:08:34 | 107.38 | 98% |
| 3440 | 2020-06-04 20:49:55 | 95.43 | 96% |
| 2926 | 2020-05-29 19:49:00 | 111.40 | 97% |