When I was in prison, I was wrapped up in all those deep books. That Tolstoy crap - people shouldn't read that stuff.
Prisons don't rehabilitate, they don't punish, they don't protect, so what the hell do they do?
The public have more interest in the punishment of an injury than he who receives it.
I asked a man in prison once how he happened to be there and he said he had stolen a pair of shoes. I told him if he had stolen a railroad he would be a United States Senator.
The penalty for laughing in a courtroom is six months in jail; if it were not for this penalty, the jury would never hear the evidence.
Most people fancy themselves innocent of those crimes of which they cannot be convicted.
The idea that the sole aim of punishment is to prevent crime is obviously grounded upon the theory that crime can be prevented, which is almost as dubious as the notion that poverty can be prevented.
History is full of people who went to prison or were burned at the stake for proclaiming their ideas. Society has always defended itself.
Crimes lead one into another; they who are capable of being forgers are capable of being incendiaries.
No matter how you seem to fatten on a crime, that can never be good for the bee which is bad for the hive.
It is not at the table, but in prison, that you learn who your true friends are.
By noiselessly going to a prison a civil-resister ensures a calm atmosphere.
To my mind, to kill in war is not a whit better than to commit ordinary murder.
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.