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typeracer

Pit Stop
God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?
— The Gay Science: With a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs (book) by Friedrich Nietzsche
Language: English
Submitted by: karmik
This text has been typed more than 1000 times:
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Top 10 scores for this text

User Speed Accuracy Points Place Date Options
1 joshua728 210 WPM 99% 322 1/2 Dec 30, 2021
2 arc_sec 196 WPM 99% 300 1/1 Nov 14, 2019
3 poopandfart 193 WPM 99% 296 1/3 Dec 15, 2020
4 arenasnow 191 WPM 99% 292 1/2 Mar 31, 2019
5 chakk 178 WPM 98% 273 1/4 Jan 5, 2019
6 slekap 172 WPM 98% 264 1/2 Apr 8, 2020
7 mako640 170 WPM 100% 261 2/2 Jan 16, 2019
8 rosewolf 170 WPM 100% 261 1/4 Mar 27, 2020
9 foggyy 170 WPM 99% 260 1/6 Apr 4, 2020
10 deroche1 169 WPM 98% 260 1/2 Dec 16, 2018