When I was in prison, I was wrapped up in all those deep books. That Tolstoy crap - people shouldn't read that stuff.
No matter how you seem to fatten on a crime, that can never be good for the bee which is bad for the hive.
If it's near dinner-time, the foreman takes out his watch when the jury has retired, and says: "Dear me, gentlemen, ten minutes to five, I declare! I dine at five, gentlemen." "So do I," says everybody else, except two men who ought to have dined at three and seem more than half disposed to stand out in consequence. The foreman smiles, and puts up his watch:--"Well, gentlemen, what do we say, plaintiff or defendant, gentlemen?
Law is merely the expression of the will of the strongest for the time being, and therefore laws have no fixity, but shift from generation to generation.
Most people fancy themselves innocent of those crimes of which they cannot be convicted.
Justice is justice though it's always delayed and finally done only by mistake.
We have our own system, ... and journalists in our system are not put in prison for embarrassing the government by revealing things the government might not wish to have revealed. The important thing is that our system, under which journalists can write without fear or favor, should continue.
It is true you cannot eat freedom and you cannot power machinery with democracy. But then neither can political prisoners turn on the light in the cells of a dictatorship.
A just chastisement may benefit a man, though it seldom does; but an unjust one changes all his blood to gall.
The thoughts of a prisoner - they're not free either. They keep returning to the same things.
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.
Mere factual innocence is no reason not to carry out a death sentence properly reached.
What restrains us from killing is partly fear of punishment, partly moral scruple, and partly what may be described as a sense of humor.
To be in prison so long, it's difficult to remember exactly what you did to get there.
One man meets an infamous punishment for that crime which confers a diadem upon another.
The mellow sweetness of pumpkin pie off a prison spoon is something you will never forget.
Definition, rationality, and structure are ways of seeing, but they become prisons when they blank out other ways of seeing.
The worst prison is not of stone. It is of a throbbing heart, outraged by an infamous life.