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 December 30, 2016.
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Universe | Races | Average WPM | First Race |
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Long Texts | 403 | 59.27 | December 30, 2016 |
Default (English) | 39 | 115.89 | January 14, 2024 |
Instant Death Mode | 7 | 82.99 | December 17, 2017 |
All TypeRacer Texts | 2 | 54.02 | January 27, 2022 |