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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 12851 | 2020-10-30 07:44:56 | 85.10 | 97% |
| 3599 | 2019-09-12 09:28:48 | 78.90 | 96% |
| 2631 | 2019-08-16 22:52:34 | 84.32 | 98% |
| 615 | 2019-04-07 13:47:57 | 72.46 | 96% |