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.
It is more dangerous that even a guilty person should be punished without the forms of law than that he should escape.
I wrote a million words in the first year, and I could never have done that outside of prison.
Nothing can be more abhorrent to democracy than to imprison a person or keep him in prison because he is unpopular. This is really the test of civilization.
To seek the redress of grievances by going to law, is like sheep running for shelter to a bramble bush.
One of the many lessons that one learns in prison is, that things are what they are and will be what they will be.
A just chastisement may benefit a man, though it seldom does; but an unjust one changes all his blood to gall.
Crime is a logical extension of the sort of behavior that often [is] considered perfectly respectable in legitimate business.
Nor cell, nor chain, nor dungeon speaks to the murderer like the voice of solitude.
Money will determine whether the accused goes to prison or walks out of the courtroom a free man.
It is the spirit and not the form of law that keeps justice alive.
If it's near dinner-time, the foreman takes out his watch when the jury has retired, and says: "Dear me, gentlemen, ten minutes to five, I declare! I dine at five, gentlemen." "So do I," says everybody else, except two men who ought to have dined at three and seem more than half disposed to stand out in consequence. The foreman smiles, and puts up his watch:--"Well, gentlemen, what do we say, plaintiff or defendant, gentlemen?
I asked a man in prison once how he happened to be there and he said he had stolen a pair of shoes. I told him if he had stolen a railroad he would be a United States Senator.