In every passerby, everywhere - Christ. . . He is in everyone - there can be no outcasts.
You are beautiful, but you are empty,” he went on. “One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me.
The waterfall winks at every passerby.
With madness, as with vomit, it's the passerby who receives the inconvenience.