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Pit Stop

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Moments like this are buds on the tree of life. Flowers of darkness they are. A thing there was that mattered; a thing, wreathed about with chatter, defaced, obscured in her own life, let drop every day in corruption, lies, chatter. This he had preserved. Death was defiance. Death was an attempt to communicate; people feeling the impossibility of reaching the centre which, mystically, evaded them; closeness drew apart; rapture faded, one was alone. There was an embrace in death.
Mrs. Dalloway (book) by Virginia Woolf
Language: English
This text has been typed 36 times:
Avg. speed: 115 WPM
Avg. accuracy: 98.3%

Top 10 scores for this text

User Speed Accuracy Points Place Date Options
1 nothisisjohn 173 WPM 100.0% 231 1/2 May 1, 2024
2 keegant 164 WPM 99.0% 218 1/2 Jan. 30, 2024
3 syrupsandwich 151 WPM 99.0% 201 1/2 Sept. 1, 2024
4 charlieog 144 WPM 98.0% 192 1/2 June 11, 2024
5 timjeffery44 126 WPM 98.0% 168 1/2 Oct. 6, 2024
6 clergy 124 WPM 97.0% 165 1/1 March 2, 2024
7 mark40511 124 WPM 99.0% 165 1/2 April 18, 2024
8 xanderec 121 WPM 98.0% 161 1/2 June 22, 2024
9 slowtexts 99 WPM 98.0% 132 1/1 Jan. 13, 2024
10 giftedotter 94 WPM 96.0% 125 1/2 Nov. 15, 2024