Prison makes you a better judge of character. You pick up on people much faster.
He who does not prevent a crime when he can, encourages it.
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.
I don't like jail, they got the wrong kind of bars in there.
Probably the only place where a man can feel really secure is in a maximum security prison, except for the imminent threat of release.
I was in prison, and you came unto me. Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
~(Jesus Christ) Matthew 25:36, 40
Well, I don't think prisons are the answer to everything, obviously.
One crime is everything; two nothing.
No written law has been more binding than unwritten custom supported by popular opinion.
It is true you cannot eat freedom and you cannot power machinery with democracy. But then neither can political prisoners turn on the light in the cells of a dictatorship.
Overlook our deeds, since you know that crime was absent from our inclination.
It is better that ten guilty persons escape, than that one innocent suffer.
The thoughts of a prisoner - they're not free either. They keep returning to the same things.
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.
It is the deed that teaches, not the name we give it. Murder and capital punishment are not opposites that cancel one another, but similars that breed their own kind.
If you share the crime of your friend, you make it your own.
Self is the only prison that can bind the soul.
Federal prison, if you get any of it, you're going to have to do 85% of it. And the reason why I called it that is because I had a friend who got sent to the federal joint and his whole... it wasn't about him being in jail. He cried about the 85%.
It is not at the table, but in prison, that you learn who your true friends are.
When I was in prison, I was wrapped up in all those deep books. That Tolstoy crap - people shouldn't read that stuff.
The mellow sweetness of pumpkin pie off a prison spoon is something you will never forget.
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrist? And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists? And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air? Oh they're taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.
To trial bring her stolen charms, and let her prison be my arms.
Taught from infancy that beauty is woman's sceptre, the mind shapes itself to the body, and roaming round its gilt cage, only seeks to adorn its prison.
