From the seven hundred
कार्पण्यदोषोपहतस्वभावः पृच्छामि त्वां धर्मसम्मूढचेताःयच्छ्रेयः स्यान्निश्चितं ब्रूहि तन्मे शिष्यस्तेऽहं शाधि मां त्वां प्रपन्नम्
kārpaṇya-doṣopahata-svabhāvaḥ pṛcchāmi tvāṃ dharma-sammūḍha-cetāḥ yac chreyaḥ syān niścitaṃ brūhi tan me śiṣyas te’haṃ śādhi māṃ tvāṃ prapannam

“My courage has failed me, and I cannot see what is right. So I am asking you, plainly: tell me what is good. I am your student. I have come to you. Teach me.”

Bhagavad Gita 2.7
In plain terms

This is the hinge of the whole Gita. Arjuna stops performing certainty and says it plainly: I cannot see what is right, and I need help. He asks as a student, and only then does Krishna begin to teach.

The bravest line in the poem has nothing to do with battle. Saying I am lost, out loud, to someone who stays, is what turns a collapse into a beginning.

All the verses, by the moment you need them