I am reading "Love" by Toni Morrison. I came across a scene where Bill Cosey has died and the Cosey girls fought over his coffin. "Standing there, one to the right, one to the left, of Bill Cosey's casket, their faces, as different as honey from soot, looked identical. Hate does that. Burns off everything but itself, so whatever your grievance is, your face looks just like your enemy's." (34)
Hate has a way of sucking all the life out of those who share it. The unique gifts of insight and caring that make us who we are disappears and the rigid stare of hate glares from each face. Thus, hate replicates itself. When we look into the face of others, we see mirrored back our own stony passion.
Something to ponder.