The only real prison is fear, and the only real freedom is freedom from fear.
If we were brought to trial for the crimes we have committed against ourselves, few would escape the gallows.
Money will determine whether the accused goes to prison or walks out of the courtroom a free man.
Any punishment that does not correct, that can merely rouse rebellion in whoever has to endure it, is a piece of gratuitous infamy which makes those who impose it more guilty in the eyes of humanity, good sense and reason, nay a hundred times more guilty than the victim on whom the punishment is inflicted.
Overlook our deeds, since you know that crime was absent from our inclination.
I can tell you this on a stack of Bibles: prisons are archaic, brutal, unregenerative, overcrowded hell holes where the inmates are treated like animals with absolutely not one humane thought given to what they are going to do once they are released. You're an animal in a cage and you're treated like one.
I just remember that disturbing feeling of walking into that prison, the complete loss of privacy, the complete loss of stimulation, dignity.
One of the many lessons that one learns in prison is, that things are what they are and will be what they will be.
Nothing can be more abhorrent to democracy than to imprison a person or keep him in prison because he is unpopular. This is really the test of civilization.
The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons.
Forgiveness, that noblest of all self-denial, is a virtue which he alone who can practise in himself can willingly believe in another.
Virtue pardons the wicked, as the sandal-tree perfumes the axe which strikes it.
Governments have tried to stop crime through punishment throughout the ages, but crime continued in the past punishment remains. Crime can only be stopped through a preventive approach in the schools. You teach the students Transcendental Meditation, and right away they’ll begin using their full brain physiology sensible and they will not get sidetracked into wrong things.
I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky.
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
Whatever is worthy to be loved for anything is worthy of preservation. A wise and dispassionate legislator, if any such should ever arise among men, will not condemn to death him who has done or is likely to do more service than injury to society. Blocks and gibbets are the nearest objects with legislators, and their business is never with hopes or with virtues.
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.
You utter a vow, or forge a signature, and you may find yourself bound for life to a monastery, a woman, or prison.