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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5961 | 2019-07-18 07:46:39 | 110.01 | 99% |
| 3191 | 2019-05-28 13:23:25 | 93.83 | 98% |
| 2587 | 2019-05-21 08:01:29 | 93.25 | 97% |