The world itself is but a large prison, out of which some are daily led to execution.
It isn't true that convicts live like animals: animals have more room to move around.
Corporal punishment falls far more heavily than most weighty pecuniary penalty.
Written laws are like spiders' webs, and will, like them, only entangle and hold the poor and weak, while the rich and powerful will easily break through them.
To seek the redress of grievances by going to law, is like sheep running for shelter to a bramble bush.
The mellow sweetness of pumpkin pie off a prison spoon is something you will never forget.
Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.
Here the great art lies, to discern in what the law is to be to restraint and punishment, and in what things persuasion only is to work.
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.
Every crime has, in the moment of its perpetration, Its own avenging angel--dark misgiving, An ominous sinking at the inmost heart.
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.
When is conduct a crime, and when is a crime not a crime? When Somebody Up There -- a monarch, a dictator, a Pope, a legislator -- so decrees.
Definition, rationality, and structure are ways of seeing, but they become prisons when they blank out other ways of seeing.
The thoughts of a prisoner - they're not free either. They keep returning to the same things.
I sometimes wish that people would put a little more emphasis upon the observance of the law than they do upon its enforcement.
The common argument that crime is caused by poverty is a kind of slander on the poor.
Fast closed with double grills
And triple gates – the cell
To wicked souls is hell;
But to a mind that's innocent
'Tis only iron, wood and stone.
The object of punishment is prevention from evil; it never can be made impulsive to good.