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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 20143 | 2019-08-25 02:48:52 | 175.55 | 99% |
| 9271 | 2018-10-10 13:45:20 | 157.84 | 99% |
| 6376 | 2018-07-14 04:56:13 | 141.31 | 97% |
| 4707 | 2018-06-06 12:48:38 | 173.66 | 100% |