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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 15533 | 2019-02-08 20:35:02 | 123.28 | 98% |
| 15223 | 2019-01-22 22:49:42 | 126.21 | 98% |
| 13434 | 2018-05-15 22:56:24 | 126.64 | 98% |
| 11377 | 2017-11-10 01:39:11 | 122.31 | 98% |
| 9615 | 2016-12-23 18:43:19 | 125.33 | 96% |