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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10201 | 2017-07-09 15:54:27 | 68.68 | 97% |
| 8998 | 2017-02-25 17:02:15 | 72.19 | 95% |
| 7338 | 2017-02-07 04:56:28 | 55.64 | 89% |
| 7245 | 2017-02-07 00:20:26 | 69.32 | 94% |