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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7425 | 2019-02-08 22:34:18 | 88.41 | 96% |
| 4259 | 2018-07-13 16:37:15 | 80.11 | 96% |
| 3966 | 2018-06-26 05:27:23 | 76.29 | 97% |