We're in a war. People who blast some pot on a casual basis are guilty of treason.
If we were brought to trial for the crimes we have committed against ourselves, few would escape the gallows.
There is no peace because the making of peace is at least as costly as the making of war - at least as exigent, at least as disruptive, at least as liable to bring disgrace and prison and death in its wake.
The uneven impact of actual enforcement measures tends to mirror and reinforce more general patterns of discrimination (along socioeconomic, racial and ethnic, sexual, and perhaps generational lines) within the society. As a consequence, such enforcement (ineffective as it may be in producing conformity) almost certainly reinforces feelings of alienation already prevalent within major segments of the population.
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.
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.
It is certain that the study of human psychology, if it were undertaken exclusively in prisons, would also lead to misrepresentation and absurd generalizations.
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.
Definition, rationality, and structure are ways of seeing, but they become prisons when they blank out other ways of seeing.
If punishment reaches not the mind and makes not the will supple, it hardens the offender.
Everyone is a prisoner of his own experiences. No one can eliminate prejudices - just recognize them.
Virtue pardons the wicked, as the sandal-tree perfumes the axe which strikes it.
The worst of prison life, he thought, was not being able to close his door.
The only effect of public punishment is to show the rabble how bravely it can be borne; and that every one who hath lost a toe-nail hath suffered worse.
Nor cell, nor chain, nor dungeon speaks to the murderer like the voice of solitude.
What restrains us from killing is partly fear of punishment, partly moral scruple, and partly what may be described as a sense of humor.
A Sunday school is a prison in which children do penance for the evil conscience of their parents.