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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5525 | 2020-06-14 20:03:23 | 202.30 | 99% |
| 1298 | 2018-10-06 23:07:49 | 176.02 | 99% |
| 236 | 2018-09-28 03:26:05 | 166.67 | 98% |