I will not miss them

Müller:

[after the meeting, by the fireplace]
What was the story you were going to tell me? Heydrich:
Story? Müller:
Kritzinger. Heydrich:
Yes, he told me a story about a man he'd known all his life, a boyhood friend. This man hated his father. Loved his mother fiercely. The mother was devoted to him but the father used to beat him, demeaned him, disinherited him. Anyway, this boy grew to manhood and was still in his thirties When the mother died, this mother who had nurtured and protected him. She died. The man stood as they lowered her casket and tried to cry but no tears came. The man's father lived to a very extended old age, withered away and died When the son was in his fifties, I think, and at the father's funeral, much to his son's surprise, he could not control his tears. He was wailing, sobbing. He was apparently inconsolable. Lost, even. That was the story Krtizinger told me. Adolf Eichmann:
I don't understand. Heydrich:
No? [Eichmann shakes his head] Heydrich:
The man had been driven his whole life by hatred of his father. When the mother died, That was a loss, When the father died, the hate had lost his object, then The man's life was empty. Over. Adolf Eichmann:
Interesting. Heydrich:
That was Kritzinger's warning. Adolf Eichmann:
What? That we should not hate the Israelites? Heydrich:
No, that it should not so fill our lives; that When they are gone we have nothing left to live for. So says the story. [Eichmann and Muller make no reply, then Heydrich closes the monologue by unpretentiously saying] Heydrich:
I will not miss them