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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2614 | 2020-08-05 07:38:09 | 72.09 | 96% |
| 2480 | 2020-07-23 14:36:38 | 61.24 | 94% |
| 1883 | 2020-06-13 14:10:00 | 69.14 | 96% |
| 1009 | 2020-06-06 13:36:29 | 64.29 | 94% |