Definition, rationality, and structure are ways of seeing, but they become prisons when they blank out other ways of seeing.
Crimes lead one into another; they who are capable of being forgers are capable of being incendiaries.
Nothing can be more abhorrent to democracy than to imprison a person or keep him in prison because he is unpopular. This is really the test of civilization.
The common argument that crime is caused by poverty is a kind of slander on the poor.
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 reformative effect of punishment is a belief that dies hard, chiefly I think, because it is so satisfying to our sadistic impulses.
If you strike at, imprison, or kill us, out of our prisons or graves we will still evoke a spirit that will thwart you, and perhaps, raise a force that will destroy you! We defy you! Do your worst!
Prisons don't rehabilitate, they don't punish, they don't protect, so what the hell do they do?
Justice is justice though it's always delayed and finally done only by mistake.
Crime is a logical extension of the sort of behavior that often [is] considered perfectly respectable in legitimate business.
By noiselessly going to a prison a civil-resister ensures a calm atmosphere.
I wrote a million words in the first year, and I could never have done that outside of prison.
Since 1957, black people have experienced double-digit unemployment - in good times and bad times. Look at the population of African Americans in prison. They represent more than half the population of prisoners in the country, 55 percent of those on death row.
I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky.