text_original: "She is your mother," she said quietly. "My mother!" he repeated; "yes, I will tell you what a mother she has been to me  " "Nick!" It passes my power to write down the pity of that appeal, the hopelessness of it, the yearning in it.
text_transcription: SHE IS YOUR MOTHER SHE SAID QUIETLY MY MOTHER HE REPEATED YES I WILL TELL YOU WHAT A MOTHER SHE HAS BEEN TO ME NICK IT PASSES MY POWER TO WRITE DOWN THE PITY OF THAT APPEAL THE HOPELESSNESS OF IT THE YEARNING IN IT
phonemes: "ʃiː ɪz jʊɹ mˈʌðɚ," ʃiː sˈɛd kwˈaɪətli. "maɪ mˈʌðɚ!" hiː ɹᵻpˈiːɾᵻd; "jˈɛs, aɪ wɪl tˈɛl juː wʌt ɐ mˈʌðɚ ʃiː hˈæzbiːn tə mˌiː  " "nˈɪk!" ɪt pˈæsᵻz maɪ pˈaʊɚ tə ɹˈaɪt dˌaʊn ðə pˈɪɾi ʌv ðæt ɐpˈiːl, ðə hˈoʊpləsnəs ʌv ɪt, ðə jˈɜːnɪŋ ɪn ɪt.