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 |
---|---|---|---|
1789 | 2017-12-19 18:51:45 | 99.85 | 96% |
658 | 2017-09-06 02:06:26 | 83.68 | 98% |
382 | 2017-09-04 18:15:57 | 101.66 | 99% |
351 | 2017-09-04 03:11:09 | 93.73 | 98% |