“Alas, good friend, what profit can you see
In hating such a hateless thing as me?
There is no sport in hate where all the rage
Is on one side. In vain would you assuage
Your frowns upon an unresisting smile,
In which not even contempt lurks, to beguile
Your heart, by some faint sympathy of hate.”
From “Sonnet”, Percy Bysshe Shelley,
But that’s an ideal, of course. I’m not sure that I don’t hate that man, but he isn’t to be remembered. The beautiful, blazing lives blasted apart by hate because of who they love, are to be remembered and mourned.