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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 18977 | 2020-07-16 16:26:09 | 72.25 | 95% |
| 16391 | 2020-04-01 23:38:15 | 79.01 | 98% |
| 12502 | 2019-11-03 14:06:40 | 75.09 | 97% |
| 12100 | 2019-10-22 07:02:07 | 73.46 | 97% |