Character: Jack (Jack)

There is no right or wrong in art, just as there is no absolutely right or wrong in the world.

- Sam and Dean are just people, although extraordinary, brave, special, but still people, and people burn brightly, but not for very long compared to people like us, and in the end, they leave, even the best of them, and we live on, so we grow up.
- Losing people?
- Yes.
- But what's the point?
- Meaning?
- What's the point of being a higher being if everyone I care about will just leave?
- The point is that they lived in the world and you knew them when they were gone - it will hurt, but this pain will remind you how much you loved them.
- Sounds... awfully.
- True, but life is like that.

- In my childhood I had a sore in my ear, something congenital. I did not hear. And who did I eventually become? The singer. So there are talented people everywhere. Every person is talented. And until you take a step and try, you never know. For this we are born to tell people something of our own.

Imagine a person walking down the street under the lights. When it passes exactly under a street lamp, his shadow is thicker but less likely. Then, when it goes on, the shadow grows before him. It is becoming longer and longer while becoming more faded, and behind the man there is another shadow from the lantern. It becomes shorter and shorter, until it reaches the greatest thickness, when a person is exactly under the lamp.
Assume that the man under the first light - I immediately after the murder.
I feel strong and confident. I go forward, a shadow in front of me grows as my pleasure, but at the same time, there is the pain is the shadow behind me from the next lamp. In the middle between the two lights, the pain becomes so strong that it outweighs my pleasure. With every step it takes, and the pain increases. Finally, the pain becomes so unbearable that I have to do something. When I get under the next lamp, I will kill again.

Sometimes, to hide, it is better not to hide at all.

- Tell me, Paul, if I start to dig your pond, I mean serious digging, I'll find her there?
Okay, the advantage is on your side, Jack. <...> You can't even imagine the pain that I have inside.
- Huh...
- No, wait, just hear me out! Let me tell you. Have an idea for a transaction - full acceptance. I will describe all the details, about each of the victims. Remember the details of all the crimes of all. I have a very good memory. I will fill the case to capacity and tie the top with ribbon. Only not injection! Lock me up in a mental hospital, anything, but not injection! I deserve to live with this pain.
I gave you a chance. Enough.
- No, look, you owe me! I decided to give you a ride on the road, otherwise your mission would have failed! My decision, my idea, it was my story! What, not enough? It seems that way. I gave it to you. Leave me the ending.
My I like more.

I hate myself for not catching you earlier murder of Nancy burrows. I will blame myself all my life.

- I am grateful to you, Jack. Maybe you find that hard to believe, but true. And you know why? Because you were sent to me by God. The tramp, who leads by the nose of the police, kills all these women are such helpless, taken somewhere in the deep woods and brutally stabbed to death there, but fate gives me a chance to stop you.
- I didn't kill those women.
- No need to convince me. Know why you never caught me? When Providence gives me a sign, I'll recognize immediately. <...> But you still have to take that chance. The tramp coming along the road, don't let him go, pick him up, slightly sapuri his head. You made me work for it. Think you know more than me about life? I'm just the writer, right? I'll show you the reality. You created it.

- There is only one exit, Floor: remove all traces before cops show up and find out what we did.
- Why would "we"?! You did this one! Let the police come and finds out everything.
- You need the police?
- Yes, we need. At once, I know what to do because this is a sign. And they don't happen too often.

See how helpless people look when their future is uncertain. They always imagine the worst.

Phone never works and the Internet too.
Paul, no one is better. What are they? The writer only on hand to be cut off from the rest of the world. Well, like privacy, calm to work there, not to be distracted.
- Most interesting - I always find distractions. Procrastination - the writers know this well.

- When you grabbed that guy there, what did you tell him?
- What I said?
- Yes, he was so scared.
- Said I love to eat in silence.

Need to lose the most valuable to understand who was there for you.
It took something devastating for me to figure out what I had right in front of me.

Do you love him?
- I used to love it.
- And me?
- And love... one day.