Everyone is a prisoner of his own experiences. No one can eliminate prejudices - just recognize them.
Virtue pardons the wicked, as the sandal-tree perfumes the axe which strikes it.
The only difference between me and my fellow actors is that I've spent more time in jail.
The only real prison is fear, and the only real freedom is freedom from fear.
We who live in prison, and in whose lives there is no event but sorrow, have to measure time by throbs of pain, and the record of bitter moments.
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.
They were being driven to a prison, through no fault of their own, in all probability for life. In comparison, how much easier it would be to walk to the gallows than to this tomb of living horrors!
Experts and the educated elite have replaced what worked with what sounded good. Society was far more civilized before they took over our schools, prisons, welfare programs, police departments and courts. It's high time we ran these people out of our lives and went back to common sense.
Kill a man, and you are an assassin. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill everyone, and you are a God.
There is no greater punishment of wickedness that that it is dissatisfied with itself and its deeds.
Overlook our deeds, since you know that crime was absent from our inclination.
When I was in prison, I was wrapped up in all those deep books. That Tolstoy crap - people shouldn't read that stuff.
I was put into jail as I was going to the shoemaker's to get a shoe which was mended. When I was let out the next morning, I proceeded to finish my errand, and, having put on my mended shoe, joined a huckleberry party, who were impatient to put themselves under my conduct; and in half an hour -- for the horse was soon tackled -- was in the midst of a huckleberry field, on one of our highest hills, two miles off, and then the State was nowhere to be seen.
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 perfection of a thing consists in its essence; there are perfect criminals, as there are men of perfect probity.
When the Nazis came for the communists, I remained silent; I was not a communist. When they locked up the social democrats, I remained silent; I was not a social democrat. When they came for the trade unionists, I did not speak out; I was not a trade unionist. When they came for me, there was no one left to speak out.
The mellow sweetness of pumpkin pie off a prison spoon is something you will never forget.
Civilization is maintained by a very few people in a small number of places and we need only some bombs and a few prisons to blot it out altogether.