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Edwin Arnold

42quotes
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The Victorian era brought with it a sustained English fascination with the civilizations and literatures of the East, producing a body of work that moved between scholarship, translation, and imaginative writing. Edwin Arnold, born in Gravesend on 10 June 1832, occupied a distinctive position within that current, drawing on training in philology, orientalism, and poetry to produce work that crossed disciplinary lines.

Arnold was educated at King's School, Rochester, then at King's College London, and finally at University College, Oxford, where he received the Newdigate Prize. His professional life combined several roles simultaneously: he worked as a writer, journalist, editor, translator, and orientalist, conducting his work in English throughout. That combination of scholarly grounding and journalistic practice gave his output a particular character — neither purely academic nor purely literary, but moving between the two registers with evident facility.

His most notable work is The Light of Asia, a poem that drew on his orientalist and philological interests and brought them into the form of English verse. The work stands as the clearest example of how Arnold channeled his engagement with Eastern subjects into writing intended for a broad readership, rather than confining his scholarship to specialist audiences. As a translator as well as an original writer, he worked across the boundary between languages, a practice consistent with his philological formation.

Arnold's contributions were recognized through several honors. He received the Knight Commander of the Order of the Indian Empire and the Companion of the Order of the Star of India, distinctions that reflect the connection his work maintained with the subcontinent throughout his career. He died in London on 24 March 1904, and the authorized form of his name recorded by the Library of Congress — "Arnold, Edwin, Sir, 1832-1904" — preserves the knighthood that marked the formal recognition of his literary and scholarly career.

Quotes by Edwin Arnold

Edwin Arnold's insights on:

A little rain will fill The lily’s cup which hardly moistens the field.
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A little rain will fill The lily’s cup which hardly moistens the field.
No power on earth compares to a mother’s tender prayers.
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No power on earth compares to a mother’s tender prayers.
Like a plank of driftwood Tossed on the watery main, Another plank encountered, Meets, touches, parts again; So tossed, and drifting ever, On life’s unresting sea, Men meet, and greet, and sever, Parting eternally.
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Like a plank of driftwood Tossed on the watery main, Another plank encountered, Meets, touches, parts again; So tossed, and drifting ever, On life’s unresting sea, Men meet, and greet, and sever, Parting eternally.
Not a piece of architecture, as other buildings are, but the proud passions of an emperor’s love wrought in living stones.
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Not a piece of architecture, as other buildings are, but the proud passions of an emperor’s love wrought in living stones.
Sleep – death without dying – living, but not life.
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Sleep – death without dying – living, but not life.
Almond blossom, sent to teach us That the spring days soon will reach us.
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Almond blossom, sent to teach us That the spring days soon will reach us.
Within yourself deliverance must be searched for, because each man makes hiw own prison.
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Within yourself deliverance must be searched for, because each man makes hiw own prison.
Pity makes the world soft to the weak and noble to the strong.
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Pity makes the world soft to the weak and noble to the strong.
What good I see humbly I seek to do, And live obedient to the law, in trust That what will come, and must come, shall come well.
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What good I see humbly I seek to do, And live obedient to the law, in trust That what will come, and must come, shall come well.
We are the voices of the wandering wind,
Which moan for rest and rest can never find;
Lo! as the wind is so is mortal life,
A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife.
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We are the voices of the wandering wind, Which moan for rest and rest can never find; Lo! as the wind is so is mortal life, A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife.
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