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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5940 | 2019-12-23 03:21:04 | 110.13 | 97% |
| 3208 | 2018-02-05 09:49:02 | 104.55 | 97% |
| 2036 | 2017-11-27 12:07:45 | 81.98 | 96% |