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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 50037 | 2020-04-17 14:36:19 | 145.76 | 98% |
| 46739 | 2020-04-03 20:23:16 | 142.64 | 98% |
| 34389 | 2020-01-11 15:42:09 | 140.42 | 98% |
| 31817 | 2019-09-06 21:59:18 | 134.13 | 98% |
| 31735 | 2019-09-05 16:50:35 | 131.29 | 98% |
| 26430 | 2019-08-01 12:45:01 | 132.50 | 98% |
| 26417 | 2019-08-01 12:33:44 | 145.29 | 98% |
| 18780 | 2019-06-16 15:16:00 | 145.40 | 98% |
| 9521 | 2018-05-28 00:24:51 | 157.58 | 99% |
| 5929 | 2018-04-25 08:46:12 | 146.79 | 98% |
| 3082 | 2018-03-30 09:32:42 | 147.36 | 99% |