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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1811 | 2017-01-08 07:00:33 | 47.99 | 89% |
| 1305 | 2016-12-31 08:43:16 | 48.45 | 92% |
| 1228 | 2016-12-31 02:48:53 | 50.31 | 95% |