For now she need not think of anybody. She could be herself, by herself. And that was what now she often felt the need of - to think; well not even to think. To be silent; to be alone. All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others, and this self having shed its attachments was free for the strangest adventures.
—from To the Lighthouse, a book by Virginia Woolf
Active since January 1, 1970.
461 total characters in this text.
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| Rank | Username | WPM | Accuracy | Date |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. | (keegant) | 155.32 | 98.6% | 2024-01-29 |
| 2. | (charlieog) | 130.92 | 97.7% | 2024-02-07 |
| 3. | (clergy) | 128.09 | 98.6% | 2024-04-22 |
| 4. | -ⲘᎯᖇⲕ⋎⟆- (mark4... | 121.54 | 99.6% | 2024-03-28 |
| 5. | [BOT] (slowtexts) | 98.90 | 98% | 2024-01-14 |
| 6. | -ˏˋ 🌟 ˎˊ- (rektless) | 76.04 | 97.8% | 2024-03-02 |
| Universe | Races | Average WPM | First Race |
|---|---|---|---|
| Long Texts | 94 | 87.88 | December 30, 2016 |
| Instant Death Mode | 4 | 99.87 | December 20, 2017 |
| Default (English) | 0 | 0.00 | January 1, 1970 |