I have been studying how I may compare
I have been studying how I may compare This prison where I live unto the world; And, for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.
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I have been studying how I may compare This prison where I live unto the world; And, for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.
I sometimes wish that people would put a little more emphasis upon the observance of the law than they do upon its enforcement.
One of the many lessons that one learns in prison is, that things are what they are and will be what they will be.
I know not whether laws be right, or whether laws be wrong; All that we know who lie in gaol is that the wall is strong; And that each day is like a year, a year whose days are long.
You stuff somebody into the American dream, and it becomes a prison.
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.
To seek the redress of grievances by going to law, is like sheep running for shelter to a bramble bush.
When you are younger you get blamed for crimes you never committed and when you're older you begin to get credit for virtues you never possessed. It evens itself out.
Pardon is the virtue of victory.
The punishment can be remitted; the crime is everlasting.
Only free men can negotiate. Prisoners cannot enter into contracts.
The worst prison is not of stone. It is of a throbbing heart, outraged by an infamous life.
The law does not pretend to punish everything that is dishonest. That would seriously interfere with business.
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 know not whether laws be right, or whether laws be wrong; All that we know who lie in gaol is that the wall is strong; And that each day is like a year, a year whose days are long.
No man survives when freedom fails. The best men rot in filthy jails, and those who cry 'appease, appease' are hanged by those they tried to please.
The best situation of all, and one frequently utilized, is for jails and prisons to allow volunteer ministers of all faiths to enter prisons and offer their services to the inmates who want them. That way, the religious needs of inmates are met but without government funds being spent.
Liberty is rendered even more precious by the recollection of servitude.
It is impossible to go through life without trust: That is to be imprisoned in the worst cell of all, oneself.
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrist? And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists? And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air? Oh they're taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.
What is crime amongst the multitude, is only vice among the few.
To my mind, to kill in war is not a whit better than to commit ordinary murder.
I existed in a world that never is - the prison of the mind.
Vices are not crimes.
The most anxious man in a prison is the governor.