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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 21163 | 2020-08-19 17:29:53 | 137.07 | 98% |
| 12439 | 2019-04-17 00:38:37 | 128.18 | 98% |
| 6693 | 2018-07-13 05:51:00 | 127.79 | 98% |