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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 18731 | 2021-12-17 21:03:51 | 225.40 | 100% |
| 7751 | 2020-11-10 19:52:48 | 158.93 | 98% |
| 6315 | 2020-10-18 17:53:11 | 164.36 | 99% |