For this is the truth about our soul, he thought, who fish-like inhabits deep seas and plies among obscurities threading her way between the boles of giant weeds, over sun-flickered spaces and on and on into gloom, cold, deep, inscrutable; suddenly she shoots to the surface and sports on the wind-wrinkled waves; that is, has a positive need to brush, scrape, kindle herself, gossiping.
—from Mrs. Dalloway, a book by Virginia Woolf
Active since January 1, 1970.
387 total characters in this text.
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Rank | Username | WPM | Accuracy | Date |
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1. | (keegant) | 153.95 | 98.8% | 2024-01-30 |
2. | (charlieog) | 133.87 | 99% | 2024-02-17 |
3. | -ⲘᎯᖇⲕ⋎⟆- (mark4... | 121.48 | 99.5% | 2024-04-18 |
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5. | [BOT] (slowtexts) | 98.69 | 98% | 2024-01-14 |
6. | -ˏˋ 🌟 ˎˊ- (rektless) | 79.16 | 98% | 2024-03-19 |
Universe | Races | Average WPM | First Race |
---|---|---|---|
Long Texts | 130 | 75.10 | December 30, 2016 |
Instant Death Mode | 7 | 82.99 | December 17, 2017 |
All TypeRacer Texts | 1 | 64.84 | January 27, 2022 |
Default (English) | 0 | 0.00 | January 1, 1970 |