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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3265 | 2017-03-05 05:25:52 | 97.39 | 96% |
| 3200 | 2017-03-03 04:08:09 | 93.85 | 97% |
| 2702 | 2017-01-01 14:18:50 | 89.75 | 96% |