No obligation to justice does force a man to be cruel, or to use the sharpest sentence.
The common argument that crime is caused by poverty is a kind of slander on the poor.
Justice is that virtue of the soul which is distributive according to desert.
Every crime has, in the moment of its perpetration, Its own avenging angel--dark misgiving, An ominous sinking at the inmost heart.
Society has used the juvenile courts to create a caste system where there are throw-away people.
I submit that an individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and who willingly accepts the penalty of imprisonment in order to arouse the conscience of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the highest respect for the law.
Definition, rationality, and structure are ways of seeing, but they become prisons when they blank out other ways of seeing.
You utter a vow, or forge a signature, and you may find yourself bound for life to a monastery, a woman, or prison.
We're in a war. People who blast some pot on a casual basis are guilty of treason.
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 mellow sweetness of pumpkin pie off a prison spoon is something you will never forget.
On a planet that increasingly resembles one huge Maximum Security prison, the only intelligent choice is to plan a jail break.
Three hundred years ago a prisoner condemned to the Tower of London carved on the wall of his cell this sentiment to keep up his spirits during his long imprisonment: “It is not adversity that kills, but the impatience with which we bear adversity.”
If punishment reaches not the mind and makes not the will supple, it hardens the offender.
In prisons, those things withheld from and denied to the prisoner become precisely what he wants most of all.
Overlook our deeds, since you know that crime was absent from our inclination.
To seek the redress of grievances by going to law, is like sheep running for shelter to a bramble bush.
It is better that ten guilty persons escape, than that one innocent suffer.
He had drawn many a thousand of these rations in prisons and camps, and though he'd never had an opportunity to weight them on scales, and although, being a man of timid nature, he knew no way of standing up for his rights, he, like every other prisoner, had discovered long ago that honest weight was never to be found in the bread-cutting. There was short weight in every ration. The only point was how short. So every day you took a look to soothe your soul - today, maybe, they haven't snitched any.