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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6577 | 2019-08-09 02:13:22 | 63.69 | 98% |
| 4516 | 2019-07-31 17:21:29 | 68.57 | 99% |
| 4016 | 2019-07-27 17:17:49 | 57.39 | 96% |