We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.
I was in prison, and you came unto me. Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
~(Jesus Christ) Matthew 25:36, 40
There's no greater threat to our independence, to our cherished freedoms and personal liberties than the continual, relentless injection of these insidious poisons into our system. We must decide whether we cherish independence from drugs, without which there is no freedom.
We're in a war. People who blast some pot on a casual basis are guilty of treason.
Money will determine whether the accused goes to prison or walks out of the courtroom a free man.
The torment of human frustration, whatever its immediate cause, is the knowledge that the self is in prison, its vital force and 'mangled mind' leaking away in lonely, wasteful self-conflict.
The uneven impact of actual enforcement measures tends to mirror and reinforce more general patterns of discrimination (along socioeconomic, racial and ethnic, sexual, and perhaps generational lines) within the society. As a consequence, such enforcement (ineffective as it may be in producing conformity) almost certainly reinforces feelings of alienation already prevalent within major segments of the population.
The thoughts of a prisoner - they're not free either. They keep returning to the same things.
Justice is justice though it's always delayed and finally done only by mistake.
The object of punishment is prevention from evil; it never can be made impulsive to good.
Justice is that virtue of the soul which is distributive according to desert.
I have been studying how I may compare this prison where I live unto the world; Shut up in the prison of their own consciences.
The worst of prison life, he thought, was not being able to close his door.
Mere factual innocence is no reason not to carry out a death sentence properly reached.
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.