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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 28559 | 2018-11-18 21:31:53 | 106.30 | 95% |
| 21428 | 2018-08-06 23:54:40 | 112.73 | 96% |
| 7392 | 2017-07-24 22:20:49 | 105.22 | 95% |
| 6782 | 2017-06-05 00:18:33 | 101.92 | 95% |
| 5047 | 2017-04-21 18:30:23 | 100.08 | 87% |
| 3751 | 2017-03-13 20:05:43 | 107.13 | 93% |
| 3258 | 2017-02-27 18:43:35 | 99.37 | 90% |
| 3235 | 2017-02-27 18:19:21 | 99.91 | 90% |
| 2617 | 2017-02-15 21:59:03 | 118.52 | 94% |
| 1988 | 2017-01-28 19:22:47 | 101.41 | 92% |