The English laws punish vice; the Chinese laws do more, they reward virtue.
I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky.
There are few better measures of the concern a society has for its individual members and its own well being than the way it handles criminals.
You utter a vow, or forge a signature, and you may find yourself bound for life to a monastery, a woman, or prison.
Adversities such as being homeless and going to prison has made many people stronger.
History is full of people who went to prison or were burned at the stake for proclaiming their ideas. Society has always defended itself.
I never told a victim story about my imprisonment. Instead, I told a transformation story - about how prison changed my outlook, about how I saw that communication, truth, and trust are at the heart of power.
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.
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.
I sometimes wish that people would put a little more emphasis upon the observance of the law than they do upon its enforcement.
We who live in prison, and in whose lives there is no event but sorrow, have to measure time by throbs of pain, and the record of bitter moments.
Kill a man, and you are an assassin. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill everyone, and you are a God.
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.