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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3920 | 2017-07-08 11:28:56 | 61.47 | 98% |
| 2530 | 2017-02-22 20:24:23 | 60.46 | 92% |
| 1239 | 2016-11-27 19:31:20 | 61.71 | 93% |