About this passageA discourse listing five facts that no one — however powerful, human or divine — can arrange otherwise. The text then draws a distinction not between people who suffer loss and people who don't, but between those who have reflected on its universality beforehand and those who have not. The repeated phrase "it's not just me" is the hinge of the argument. In the full discourse this teaching is given to a king whose queen has died.
"Mendicants, there are five things that cannot be had by any ascetic or brahmin or god or Māra or divinity or by anyone in the world. What five?
That someone liable to old age should not grow old. That someone liable to sickness should not get sick. That someone liable to death should not die. That someone liable to ending should not end. That someone liable to perishing should not perish.
An unlearned ordinary person has someone liable to old age who grows old. But they don't reflect on old age: 'It's not just me who has someone liable to old age who grows old. For as long as sentient beings come and go, pass away and are reborn, they all have someone liable to old age who grows old. If I were to sorrow and wail and lament, beating my breast and falling into confusion, just because someone liable to old age grows old, I'd lose my appetite and my physical appearance would deteriorate. My work wouldn't get done, my enemies would be encouraged, and my friends would be dispirited.'
And so, when someone liable to old age grows old, they sorrow and wail and lament, beating their breast and falling into confusion. This is called an unlearned ordinary person struck by sorrow's poisoned arrow, who only mortifies themselves."
In plainer words
There are five things nobody can arrange otherwise — not the powerful, not the holy, not the gods. Things that age will age. Things that get sick will get sick. Things that die will die. Things that end will end. Things that fall apart will fall apart. When it happens to someone untrained, they never think: this is not only happening to me — it happens to everyone, always has. So they fall apart over it, lose their appetite, stop functioning, and none of the grieving changes the fact. That is what it looks like to be hit by sorrow and make it worse yourself.
A restatement in modern English, written for this collection. The passage above is the text; this is one way of putting it.