text_original: Wherever the eye wanders," she went on, "it recalls some great truth that has been crystallised for us by literary men" (evidently the flowers themselves were of small count; all that mattered was what pen and ink could make out of them).
text_transcription: WHEREVER THE EYE WANDERS SHE WENT ON IT RECALLS SOME GREAT TRUTH THAT HAS BEEN CRYSTALLIZED FOR US BY LITERARY MEN EVIDENTLY THE FLOWERS THEMSELVES WERE OF SMALL CANT ALL THAT MATTERED WAS WHAT PEN AND INK COULD MAKE OUT OF THEM
phonemes: wɛɹˈɛvɚ ðɪ ˈaɪ wˈɔndɚz," ʃiː wɛnt ˈɔn, "ɪt ɹᵻkˈɔːlz sˌʌm ɡɹˈeɪt tɹˈuːθ ðɐthɐzbˌɪn kɹˈɪstɐlˌaɪzd fɔːɹ ˌʌs baɪ lˈɪɾɚɹˌɛɹi mˈɛn" (ˈɛvɪdəntli ðə flˈaʊɚz ðɛmsˈɛlvz wɜːɹ ʌv smˈɔːl kˈaʊnt; ˈɔːl ðæt mˈæɾɚd wʌz wʌt pˈɛn ænd ˈɪŋk kʊd mˈeɪk ˌaʊɾəv ðˌɛm).