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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7113 | 2018-09-11 22:14:09 | 147.44 | 98% |
| 6922 | 2018-09-03 01:10:02 | 126.13 | 97% |
| 1730 | 2017-06-17 04:21:47 | 126.18 | 98% |