Society has used the juvenile courts to create a caste system where there are throw-away people.
If we were brought to trial for the crimes we have committed against ourselves, few would escape the gallows.
They took away my money, my family, and my security. Why couldn't they destroy my ideas? We will question them in court tomorrow as we trigger The Revolution of all revolutions!
We're in a war. People who blast some pot on a casual basis are guilty of treason.
The number of laws is constantly growing in all countries and, owing to this, what is called crime is very often not a crime at all, for it contains no element of violence or harm.
It is the deed that teaches, not the name we give it. Murder and capital punishment are not opposites that cancel one another, but similars that breed their own kind.
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.
The object of punishment is prevention from evil; it never can be made impulsive to good.
No written law has been more binding than unwritten custom supported by popular opinion.
The thoughts of a prisoner - they're not free either. They keep returning to the same things.
Once we are destined to live out our lives in the prison of our mind, our duty is to furnish it well.
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrist? And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists? And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air? Oh they're taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.
Definition, rationality, and structure are ways of seeing, but they become prisons when they blank out other ways of seeing.
It was only when I lay there on the rotting prison straw that I sensed within myself the first stirrings of good. Gradually it was disclosed to me that the line separating good and evil passes not between states nor between social classes nor between political parties, but right through every human heart, through all human hearts. And that is why I turn back to the years of my imprisonment and say, sometimes to the astonishment of those about me, bless you, prison, for having been a part of my life.
If punishment reaches not the mind and makes not the will supple, it hardens the offender.
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.
Prisons don't rehabilitate, they don't punish, they don't protect, so what the hell do they do?
Show me the prison, Show me the jail, Show me the prisoner whose life has gone stale. And I'll show you a young man with so many reasons why And there, but for fortune, go you or I.