“Looking at all his relatives come together in both armies, the son of Kunti broke down with deep compassion and said, 'Krishna, now that I have seen my own people here, coming near and longing to fight, my legs collapse my mouth is parched, my body trembles, and my hair bristles; the Gandiva bow drops from my hand, my skin is burned, and I find no rest; my mind seems to wander; I see perverse omens; and before me I see no good in killing my people in battle, Lovely-Haired Krishna!”
Book:The Bhagavad Gita