A Sunday school is a prison in which children do penance for the evil conscience of their parents.
I can tell you this on a stack of Bibles: prisons are archaic, brutal, unregenerative, overcrowded hell holes where the inmates are treated like animals with absolutely not one humane thought given to what they are going to do once they are released. You're an animal in a cage and you're treated like one.
If punishment reaches not the mind and makes not the will supple, it hardens the offender.
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.
Corporal punishment falls far more heavily than most weighty pecuniary penalty.
Nor cell, nor chain, nor dungeon speaks to the murderer like the voice of solitude.
A country is in a bad state, which is governed only by laws; because a thousand things occur for which laws cannot provide, and where authority ought to interpose.
Women now have choices. They can be married, not married, have a job, not have a job, be married with children, unmarried with children. Men have the same choice we've always had: work, or prison.
It was only when I lay there on the rotting prison straw that I sensed within myself the first stirrings of good. Gradually it was disclosed to me that the line separating good and evil passes not between states nor between social classes nor between political parties, but right through every human heart, through all human hearts. And that is why I turn back to the years of my imprisonment and say, sometimes to the astonishment of those about me, bless you, prison, for having been a part of my life.
It is more dangerous that even a guilty person should be punished without the forms of law than that he should escape.
Crimes lead one into another; they who are capable of being forgers are capable of being incendiaries.
We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.
If we were brought to trial for the crimes we have committed against ourselves, few would escape the gallows.
There is no peace because the making of peace is at least as costly as the making of war - at least as exigent, at least as disruptive, at least as liable to bring disgrace and prison and death in its wake.
You utter a vow, or forge a signature, and you may find yourself bound for life to a monastery, a woman, or prison.
Prison makes you a better judge of character. You pick up on people much faster.