This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
9336 | 2020-05-11 18:52:12 | 111.93 | 99% |
8800 | 2020-05-07 18:52:14 | 105.47 | 98% |
4967 | 2019-07-04 11:00:46 | 103.35 | 99% |
3801 | 2019-06-21 19:26:08 | 105.43 | 98% |