America is the land of the second chance – and when the gates of the prison open, the path ahead should lead to a better life.
The penalty for laughing in a courtroom is six months in jail; if it were not for this penalty, the jury would never hear the evidence.
He had drawn many a thousand of these rations in prisons and camps, and though he'd never had an opportunity to weight them on scales, and although, being a man of timid nature, he knew no way of standing up for his rights, he, like every other prisoner, had discovered long ago that honest weight was never to be found in the bread-cutting. There was short weight in every ration. The only point was how short. So every day you took a look to soothe your soul - today, maybe, they haven't snitched any.
One man meets an infamous punishment for that crime which confers a diadem upon another.
The mellow sweetness of pumpkin pie off a prison spoon is something you will never forget.
To my mind, to kill in war is not a whit better than to commit ordinary murder.
There are few better measures of the concern a society has for its individual members and its own well being than the way it handles criminals.
And while God had work for Paul, he found him friends both in court and prison. Let persecutors send saints to prison, God can provide a keeper for their turn.
Everyone is a prisoner of his own experiences. No one can eliminate prejudices - just recognize them.
Nor cell, nor chain, nor dungeon speaks to the murderer like the voice of solitude.
A just chastisement may benefit a man, though it seldom does; but an unjust one changes all his blood to gall.
Money will determine whether the accused goes to prison or walks out of the courtroom a free man.
Organized crime in America takes in over forty billion dollars a year. This is quite a profitable sum, especially when one considers that the Mafia spends very little for office supplies.
Prison makes you a better judge of character. You pick up on people much faster.
Prisons don't rehabilitate, they don't punish, they don't protect, so what the hell do they do?
If you want total security, go to prison. There you’re fed, clothed, given medical care and so on. The only thing lacking…is freedom.
Virtue pardons the wicked, as the sandal-tree perfumes the axe which strikes it.
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrist? And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists? And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air? Oh they're taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.