What really counted was the possibility of escape, a leap of freedom, out of the implacable ritual, a wild run for it that would give whatever chance for hope there was. Of course, hope meant being cut down on some street corner, as you ran like mad, by a random bullet. But when I really thought it through, nothing was going to allow me such a luxury. Everything was against it; I would just be caught up in the machinery again.
—from The Stranger, a book by Albert Camus
Active since April 10, 2022.
430 total characters in this text.
View Pit Stop page for this text
| Rank | Username | WPM | Accuracy | Date |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. | ᗜ Richard (rliu) | 117.54 | 95% | 2022-04-10 |
| 2. | Yaz Saito (ysaito) | 88.45 | 97.2% | 2023-10-15 |
| 3. | CJ (chez07) | 64.35 | 93% | 2022-12-12 |
| Universe | Races | Average WPM | First Race |
|---|---|---|---|
| Default (English) | 10,881 | 90.97 | January 13, 2017 |
| Long Texts | 88 | 91.71 | January 4, 2017 |
| Instant Death Mode | 8 | 102.16 | February 4, 2018 |
| ᗜ Stenography | 3 | 90.11 | April 10, 2022 |
| All TypeRacer Texts | 0 | 0.00 | January 1, 1970 |