It is not at the table, but in prison, that you learn who your true friends are.
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.
We don't seem to be able to check crime, so why not legalize it and then tax it out of business.
Crimes lead one into another; they who are capable of being forgers are capable of being incendiaries.
Faults of the head are punished in this world, those of the heart in another; but as most of our vices are compound, so also is their punishment.
We have initiated programs for re-entry offenders, since some 500,000 to 600,000 offenders will come out of prison each year for the next three or four years. We want to have positive alternatives when they come back to the community.
To be in prison so long, it's difficult to remember exactly what you did to get there.
Women have worked hard; starved in prison; given of their time and lives that we might sit in the House of Commons and take part in the legislating of this country.
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 worst of prison life, he thought, was not being able to close his door.
The mellow sweetness of pumpkin pie off a prison spoon is something you will never forget.
I just remember that disturbing feeling of walking into that prison, the complete loss of privacy, the complete loss of stimulation, dignity.
The world itself is but a large prison, out of which some are daily led to execution.
You utter a vow, or forge a signature, and you may find yourself bound for life to a monastery, a woman, or prison.
I wrote a million words in the first year, and I could never have done that outside of prison.
I have paid no poll-tax for six years. I was put into a jail once on this account, for one night; and, as I stood considering the walls of solid stone, I could not help being struck with the foolishness of that institution which treated me as if I were mere flesh and blood and bones, to be locked up...I saw that, if there was a wall of stone between me and my townsmen, there was a still more difficult one to climb or break through, before they could get to be as free as I was. I did not for a moment feel confined, and the walls seemed a great waste of stone and mortar.
I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky.
It is more dangerous that even a guilty person should be punished without the forms of law than that he should escape.