In this here place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard. Yonder they do not love your flesh. They despise it. They don't love your eyes; they'd just as soon pick em out. No more do they love the skin on your back. Yonder they flay it. And O my people they do not love your hands.
—from Beloved, a book by Toni Morrison
Active since January 1, 1970.
342 total characters in this text.
View Pit Stop page for this text
| Rank | Username | WPM | Accuracy | Date |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. | Capt'n Redbeard (redmar33) | 46.44 | 94% | 2024-01-11 |
| Universe | Races | Average WPM | First Race |
|---|---|---|---|
| Instant Death Mode | 11 | 90.23 | August 15, 2017 |
| Default (English) | 0 | 0.00 | January 1, 1970 |
| All TypeRacer Texts | 0 | 0.00 | January 1, 1970 |