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.
One of the many lessons that one learns in prison is, that things are what they are and will be what they will be.
No written law has been more binding than unwritten custom supported by popular opinion.
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.
In jail a man has no personality. He is a minor disposal problem and a few entries on reports. Nobody cares who loves or hates him, what he looks like, what he did with his life. Nobody reacts to him unless he gives trouble. Nobody abuses him. All that is asked of him is that he go quietly to the right cell and remain quiet when he gets there. There is nothing to fight against, nothing to be mad at. The jailers are quiet men without animosity or sadism.
The only difference between me and my fellow actors is that I've spent more time in jail.
I submit that an individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and who willingly accepts the penalty of imprisonment in order to arouse the conscience of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the highest respect for the law.
If punishment reaches not the mind and makes not the will supple, it hardens the offender.
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.
I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky.
Prisons don't rehabilitate, they don't punish, they don't protect, so what the hell do they do?
There are only two places in the world where time takes precedence over the job to be done. School and prison.
We have our own system, ... and journalists in our system are not put in prison for embarrassing the government by revealing things the government might not wish to have revealed. The important thing is that our system, under which journalists can write without fear or favor, should continue.
When I was in prison, I was wrapped up in all those deep books. That Tolstoy crap - people shouldn't read that stuff.
Money will determine whether the accused goes to prison or walks out of the courtroom a free man.
To be in prison so long, it's difficult to remember exactly what you did to get there.
Intellectual despair results in neither weakness nor dreams, but in violence. It is only a matter of knowing how to give vent to one's rage; whether one only wants to wander like madmen around prisons, or whether one wants to overturn them.
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.