A Quote by Mahatma Gandhi

He who is ever brooding over result often loses nerve in the performance of his duty. — © Mahatma Gandhi
He who is ever brooding over result often loses nerve in the performance of his duty.
He who loses wealth loses much; he who loses a friend loses more; but he that loses his courage loses all.
When a man is overcome by anger, he has a poisoned fever. He loses his strength, he loses his power over himself and over others. He throws away time in which he might have gained the end he desires. The is no time for anger in the world. - The Ancient One
Imagine now a man who is deprived of everyone he loves, and at the same time of his house, his habits, his clothes, in short, of everything he possesses: he will be a hollow man, reduced to suffering and needs, forgetful of dignity and restraint, for he who loses all often loses himself.
I would like to break out of this "dark, brooding" image, cause I'm actually not like that at all. In Ireland, brooding is a term we use for hens. A brooding hen is supposed to lay eggs. Everytime somebody says "He's dark and brooding" I think: "He's about to lay an egg".
How often are the beauties of nature unheeded by man, who, musing on past ills, brooding over the possible calamities of the future, building castles in the air, or wrapped up in his own self-love and self-importance, forgets to look abroad, or looks with a vacant stare.
A cleric who loses his faith abandons his calling; a philosopher who loses his redefines his subject.
No man can ever repay the brooding mother love to which he his life.
I seem to be attracted to the quiet, brooding type. But not too brooding. Too brooding can be narcissistic. Or psychotic.
Civilization is that mode of conduct which points out to man the path of duty. Performance of duty and observance of morality are convertible terms. To observe morality is to attain mastery over our mind and our passions. So doing, we know ourselves.
Then he [The Star Child] waited, marshaling his thoughts and brooding over his still untested powers. For though he was master of the world, he was not quite sure what to do next. But he would think of something.
Well . . . he lets it ruin his life. He gets so obsessed with going after the one thing that hurt him that he loses sight of everything else. He becomes isolated from everyone and everything. Paranoid. He feels like he can't trust anyone around him ever. In the end, he loses everything, even his life. And for what? Total stupidity, if you ask me.
The fighter loses more than his pride in the fight; he loses part of his future. He's a step closer to the slum he came from.
Tom's great yellow bronze mask all draped upon an iron framework. An inhibited, nerve-drawn; dropped face - as if hung on a scaffold of heavy private brooding; and thought.
A leader who loses his connection to his people soon loses the ability to lead them.
The one word you use in military flying is duty. It's your duty. You have no control over outcome, no control over pick-and-choose. It's duty.
From a young age, watching my father embark on daring, and often dangerous, adventures in the name of Virgin almost become the norm. I'm not saying it became any less nerve-wracking waiting for his safe return - but, over time, it encouraged a new way of thinking for myself and my brother Sam.
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