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I drew the blankets over my head and tried to think of Christmas. But the grey face still followed me. It murmured, and I understood that it desired to confess something. I felt my soul receding into some pleasant and vicious region; and there again I found it waiting for me.
— Dubliners (book) by James Joyce
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|1||iamtyperacer||219 WPM||100.0%||186||1/3||June 2, 2023|
|2||arenasnow||215 WPM||100.0%||183||1/3||Jan. 13, 2019|
|3||mythicalrocket||213 WPM||100.0%||181||1/4||March 28, 2023|
|4||arenasnow2||207 WPM||100.0%||N/A||1/3||June 29, 2017|
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