Prison continues, on those who are entrusted to it, a work begun elsewhere, which the whole of society pursues on each individual through innumerable mechanisms of discipline.
The public have more interest in the punishment of an injury than he who receives it.
If you want total security, go to prison. There you’re fed, clothed, given medical care and so on. The only thing lacking…is freedom.
The English laws punish vice; the Chinese laws do more, they reward virtue.
He was a first-time nonviolent possible offender, ... And under the mandatory minimums, he was put in prison for 15 years. Not only does the punishment not fit the crime, but the mandatory minimums don't give judges any discretion to look at the background of the case, to read into the specifics of the case. I don't know a judge who really is in favor of the mandatory minimums.
We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.
On average, drug prisoners spend more time in federal prison than rapists, who often get out on early release because of the overcrowding in prison caused by the Drug War.
The law does not pretend to punish everything that is dishonest. That would seriously interfere with business.
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.
By noiselessly going to a prison a civil-resister ensures a calm atmosphere.
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.
Whatever you think of de Sade, he was a complex figure and we should not look for easy answers with him. He was, strangely perhaps, against the death penalty, and he was never put in prison for murders or anything like that.
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.
Virtue pardons the wicked, as the sandal-tree perfumes the axe which strikes it.
I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky.
In prisons, those things withheld from and denied to the prisoner become precisely what he wants most of all.