This was the overwhelming theme on the streets of Manchester on one of its darkest days, following one of its blackest nights.

The theme was so pervasive, repeated by so many, it was as if they had been given a script.

But there was no script.

This was the spirit of the city, rejecting terror.

Shocked Mancunians gathered on a sunny, warm spring day to share the latest developments and rumours, or to watch breaking news on screens in their hands or on hotel or shop walls.

Some families were still desperately searching for their children, their tearful appeals spreading on social media and TV reports.

Those who had lost, grieved. The wounded fought to recover in hospitals across the city.

Many more had to deal with the shock of an atrocity aimed at their city's young people.

Police mobilised in their hundreds, hunting for possible accomplices amid fear the suicide bomber had allies - who may possess more improvised explosives.

More police walked the streets, calming and directing citizens, reassuring children.

A big chunk of Manchester's centre was cordoned off - including the city's cathedral.

Instead locals left flowers and messages of love and poignant solidarity at St Ann's Church, which has stood at Manchester's heart since it was a small rural town.

"Love will always come through in the end," said one message.

"You'll never walk alone," said many.

"We stand united ??? never forget 22/5/17."

A clergyman from the church said people had been visiting all morning, seeking a space of quiet and contemplation.

As well as seeking reassurance, they wanted to pass it on.

"They want to come out and stand up and say 'we are going to beat this hatred and we are going to beat it through love'," he said.

He had seen people very shocked, others quite angry, he said. There were many tears.

A nearby blood donor centre - the closest to the attack location - was busy handing out information to hundreds who came to donate, telling them they already had all the donors they could handle that day.

"We have seen a completely overwhelming response," said spokesman Richard Shortland. "We are beyond our normal capacity.

"The people of Manchester want to come forward and do something really positive."

It was not just donors: his staff had volunteered to come in on their days off to help deal with the surge of demand - he had even had retired nurses coming to lend a hand.

The spirit of volunteering was mirrored by police and ambulance workers, many of whom simply turned up to work on their days off, asking to help, before they were called in.

Parents across Manchester - and across the country - struggled to work out what to tell their children about the attack.

Teachers faced the same challenge.

At Burnage Academy for Boys, in the city's south, head teacher Ian Fenn held rolling assemblies for his 1000 students, spread across the day.

The majority of his students were from minority ethnic groups.

"For many of them there is a huge amount of anxiety," he said. "They are very silent now. They are watching, and watchful."

At the assemblies he tried to convey a simple message that "there's love and there's hate", and "we have to answer hate with love", he said.

Across Manchester on Tuesday there were symbols and messages of solidarity, small and large, everywhere you looked.

One real estate agent near the police cordon replaced all its window signs with framed "I (heart) MCR" posters.

A pair of taxi drivers, who had spent the night ferrying traumatised concertgoers away from the city (waiving their fees), carried a tray of food and drink to a victims centre.

"It was shock and calamity," said Abdullah of Manchester Cars. "But it's a very strong city, it's a vibrant city, people are lovely and friendly and help each other. We are one big community. We are Mancunians."

Down the road, within sight of the arena, an inter-faith group of religious leaders set up a makeshift stall where they offered spiritual guidance for the public and grabs for the media.

Jonny Wineberg, convener of the Greater Manchester Interfaith Network, said his first response to the attack had been shock.

"It's madness, absolute madness," he said.

"But then it's a commitment - which we already have - to stand together, to say this is about love not hate."

The attack would spur him and his colleagues to redouble their work building respect and understanding in the community, he said.

"Here you have a city where we live side by side with people of so many different cultures, where people do reach out to each other and respect each other. I go into Muslim and Christian communities and I am always greeted with kindness and love.

"This attack doesn't reflect in any way shape or form this city."

However social media was not so united.

Online, a large contingent of people posted angry Tweets condemning the attacks and calling for a crackdown on jihadists in Britain.

The attack mobilised anti-Islam voices.

Notorious far-right agitator Tommy Robinson posted a series of tweets calling for, among other things, "our own Guantanamo in the Falkland Islands" for "every single UK jihad supporter".

And Mail Online columnist and radio host Katie Hopkins said there was a "need for a final solution", in a tweet she later deleted claiming it had been a "typo".

She later called on "Western men" to "rise up" and demand "action" - though she didn't say what action.

Campaign group Stand Up To Racism said Robinson and Hopkins were using the attack to stir up hatred and division. Co-convenor Weyman Bennett said "this outrage was designed to divide our communities, we cannot allow it do so. It is vital that we stand together at this time in unity and solidarity against all forms of hatred, division and violence."

There were skinheads too, in the corner of the vigil in Manchester's town hall square on Tuesday evening.

They brought their St George flag, with a black "No Surrender" scrawled in spray paint across it, and a belligerent attitude.

But they were a tiny fringe voice at an event whose mood was of community and defiance. Thousands packed the square.

Lord mayor Eddy Newman said they were there to condemn the atrocity of the night before, to remember the victims, and express solidarity with their families.

"The people of Manchester will remember the victims forever," he said, and defy the terrorists with diverse communities working together.

Bishop of Manchester David Walker lit a candle which he said symbolised an unquenchable light that no darkness could ever destroy.

"This city is greater than the forces that align against it," he said.

"You can't defeat us because love, in the end, is always stronger than hate."

That line. Again.