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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 41546 | 2020-05-07 09:17:24 | 137.12 | 97% |
| 40542 | 2019-05-12 10:41:11 | 135.79 | 98% |
| 39866 | 2017-01-24 04:07:02 | 150.15 | 96% |