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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5681 | 2017-06-13 07:21:36 | 165.71 | 99% |
| 4003 | 2017-05-10 04:59:21 | 163.26 | 95% |
| 3563 | 2017-04-27 01:59:33 | 162.87 | 97% |
| 2406 | 2017-04-07 00:52:00 | 173.13 | 98% |
| 1964 | 2017-03-22 04:36:57 | 171.51 | 96% |
| 1823 | 2017-03-11 07:47:38 | 160.26 | 96% |
| 1708 | 2017-03-07 03:43:29 | 166.52 | 96% |