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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10100 | 2019-05-23 02:59:49 | 87.40 | 98% |
| 6441 | 2018-04-16 17:42:59 | 66.83 | 95% |
| 4690 | 2018-03-28 23:12:11 | 68.22 | 95% |
| 3496 | 2018-03-11 04:48:19 | 59.54 | 95% |
| 101 | 2018-01-24 18:51:23 | 49.91 | 94% |