text_original: She was what they had made her. Her soul was a bottomless gulf, black and bitter as the Dead Sea. Her heart was a volcano, seething, turgid, full of contending fires. Her body was a receptacle into which Benton had poured its dregs.
text_transcription: SHE WAS WHAT THEY HAD MADE HER HER SOUL WAS A BONDLESS GULF BLACK AND BITTER AS THE DEAD SEA HER HEART WAS A VOLCANO SEETHING TURGID FULL OF CONTENDING FIRES HER BODY WAS THE RECEPTACLE INTO WHICH BENTON HAD POURED ITS DREGS
phonemes: ʃiː wʌz wʌt ðeɪ hæd mˈeɪd hɜː. hɜː sˈoʊl wʌzɐ bˈɑːɾəmləs ɡˈʌlf, blˈæk ænd bˈɪɾɚɹ æz ðə dˈɛd sˈiː. hɜː hˈɑːɹt wʌzɐ vɑːlkˈeɪnoʊ, sˈiːðɪŋ, tˈɜːdʒɪd, fˈʊl ʌv kəntˈɛndɪŋ fˈaɪɚz. hɜː bˈɑːdi wʌzɐ ɹᵻsˈɛptəkəl ˌɪntʊ wˌɪtʃ bˈɛntən hæd pˈɔːɹd ɪts dɹˈɛɡz.