Talk about the sadness of passing by.

1, I am nobody's, and you are nobody's, but we are all passers-by in front of each other.

2, there are so many people, it is better not to meet each other. He walked into your life silently, and then suddenly left, leaving a specious pale silhouette and a broken heart everywhere.

Passers-by in history have given me a lot of space to place my thoughts, and I feel like the traveler riding westward.

Everyone has a passer-by in his own life. It's just that you are a few passers-by in his life.