text_original: "If I were to die," he said suddenly, "no one would ever love me for the sake of what I had left. As to footprints, they would soon be effaced; and as to the harvest, nothing would crop up but a few wild oats. It's rather a depressing thought, isn't it?"
text_transcription: IF I WERE TO DIE HE SAID SUDDENLY NO ONE WOULD EVER LOVE ME FOR THE SAKE OF WHAT I HAD LEFT AS TO FOOTPRINTS THEY WOULD SOON BE EFFACED AND AS TO THE HARVEST NOTHING WOULD CROP UP BUT A FEW WILD OATS IT'S RATHER A DEPRESSING THOUGHT ISN'T IT
phonemes: "ɪf aɪ wɜː tə dˈaɪ," hiː sˈɛd sˈʌdənli, "nˈoʊwˈʌn wʊd ˈɛvɚ lˈʌv mˌiː fɚðə sˈeɪk ʌv wʌt aɪ hæd lˈɛft. æz tə fˈʊtpɹɪnts, ðeɪ wʊd sˈuːn biː ɪfˈeɪst; ænd æz tə ðə hˈɑːɹvɪst, nˈʌθɪŋ wʊd kɹˈɑːp ˌʌp bˌʌt ɐ fjˈuː wˈaɪld ˈoʊts. ɪts ɹˈæðɚɹ ɐ dᵻpɹˈɛsɪŋ θˈɔːt, ˈɪzənt ɪt?"