Nor cell, nor chain, nor dungeon speaks to the murderer like the voice of solitude.
Prosecution I have managed to avoid; but I have been arrested, charged in a police court, have refused to be bound over, and thereupon have been unconditionally released - to my great regret; for I have always wanted to know what going to prison was like.
When is conduct a crime, and when is a crime not a crime? When Somebody Up There -- a monarch, a dictator, a Pope, a legislator -- so decrees.
The perfection of a thing consists in its essence; there are perfect criminals, as there are men of perfect probity.
One of the many lessons that one learns in prison is, that things are what they are and will be what they will be.
Crimes lead one into another; they who are capable of being forgers are capable of being incendiaries.
When I was in prison, I was wrapped up in all those deep books. That Tolstoy crap - people shouldn't read that stuff.
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.
It is impossible to go through life without trust: That is to be imprisoned in the worst cell of all, oneself.
To seek the redress of grievances by going to law, is like sheep running for shelter to a bramble bush.
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.
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.
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.
The only difference between me and my fellow actors is that I've spent more time in jail.
Definition, rationality, and structure are ways of seeing, but they become prisons when they blank out other ways of seeing.
The torment of human frustration, whatever its immediate cause, is the knowledge that the self is in prison, its vital force and 'mangled mind' leaking away in lonely, wasteful self-conflict.