Crimes lead one into another; they who are capable of being forgers are capable of being incendiaries.
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.
The refined punishments of the spiritual mode are usually much more indecent and dangerous than a good smack.
I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky.
We shall not yield to violence. We shall not be deprived of union freedoms. We shall never agree with sending people to prison for their convictions.
The law does not pretend to punish everything that is dishonest. That would seriously interfere with business.
Probably the only place where a man can feel really secure is in a maximum security prison, except for the imminent threat of release.
No obligation to justice does force a man to be cruel, or to use the sharpest sentence.
Justice is justice though it's always delayed and finally done only by mistake.
The world itself is but a large prison, out of which some are daily led to execution.
Crime is a logical extension of the sort of behavior that often [is] considered perfectly respectable in legitimate business.
Three hundred years ago a prisoner condemned to the Tower of London carved on the wall of his cell this sentiment to keep up his spirits during his long imprisonment: “It is not adversity that kills, but the impatience with which we bear adversity.”
If punishment reaches not the mind and makes not the will supple, it hardens the offender.
There are only two places in the world where time takes precedence over the job to be done. School and prison.
To try to raise a son from inside the prison walls is a very difficult thing. But I want to say to the world my son at 16 was the one who tried the most to get me out of prison.
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself.