I had occasion to look this phrase up a while back. This is where it comes from:
Many and sharp the num’rous ills
Inwoven with our frame!
More pointed still we make ourselves
Regret, remorse, and shame!
And Man, whose heav’n-erected face
The smiles of love adorn, –
Man’s inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!
“Man was made to Mourn: A Dirge”
Robert Burns
1785
So true, and so sad!
The full poem is enough to cast one into a fit of depression!
