I know not whether laws be right, or whether laws be wrong; All that we know who lie in gaol is that the wall is strong; And that each day is like a year, a year whose days are long.
One crime has to be concealed by another.
In jail a man has no personality. He is a minor disposal problem and a few entries on reports. Nobody cares who loves or hates him, what he looks like, what he did with his life. Nobody reacts to him unless he gives trouble. Nobody abuses him. All that is asked of him is that he go quietly to the right cell and remain quiet when he gets there. There is nothing to fight against, nothing to be mad at. The jailers are quiet men without animosity or sadism.
Vices are not crimes.
We have our own system, ... and journalists in our system are not put in prison for embarrassing the government by revealing things the government might not wish to have revealed. The important thing is that our system, under which journalists can write without fear or favor, should continue.
Fear can be like a prison. It is, however, a self made prison. Many are imprisoned by fear. No one else can liberate them from this prison. Others may inspire them but they must liberate themselves.
You stuff somebody into the American dream, and it becomes a prison.
Concepts of justice must have hands and feet to carry out justice in every case in the shortest possible time and the lowest possible cost. That is the challenge to every lawyer and judge in America.
Wherever any one is against his will, that is to him a prison.
When I was in prison, I was wrapped up in all those deep books. That Tolstoy crap - people shouldn't read that stuff.
Hard cases, it is said, make bad law.
Distrust all in whom the impulse to punish is powerful.
Liberty is rendered even more precious by the recollection of servitude.
There is no greater punishment of wickedness that that it is dissatisfied with itself and its deeds.
So justice while she winks at crimes, Stumbles on innocence sometimes.
The common argument that crime is caused by poverty is a kind of slander on the poor.
Hanging was the worst use a man could be put to.
He who profits by a crime commits it.
Virtue pardons the wicked, as the sandal-tree perfumes the axe which strikes it.
When I was in prison, I was wrapped up in all those deep books. That Tolstoy crap - people shouldn't read that stuff.
When I was in prison, I was wrapped up in all those deep books. That Tolstoy crap - people shouldn't read that stuff.
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.
While we have prisons it matters little which of us occupy the cells.
Once we are destined to live out our lives in the prison of our mind, our duty is to furnish it well.
