Kill a man, and you are an assassin. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill everyone, and you are a God.
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.
We don't seem to be able to check crime, so why not legalize it and then tax it out of business.
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.
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.
I don't like being famous - it is like a prison. And driving for Ferrari would make it far worse.
There are few better measures of the concern a society has for its individual members and its own well being than the way it handles criminals.
Wicked deeds are generally done, even with impunity, for the mere desire of occupation.
It isn't true that convicts live like animals: animals have more room to move around.
No obligation to justice does force a man to be cruel, or to use the sharpest sentence.
To try to raise a son from inside the prison walls is a very difficult thing. But I want to say to the world my son at 16 was the one who tried the most to get me out of prison.
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.
Fast closed with double grills And triple gates–the cell To wicked souls is hell; But to a mind that's innocent 'Tis only iron, wood and stone.
Nor cell, nor chain, nor dungeon speaks to the murderer like the voice of solitude.
The only difference between me and my fellow actors is that I've spent more time in jail.
The law does not pretend to punish everything that is dishonest. That would seriously interfere with business.
Prisons don't rehabilitate, they don't punish, they don't protect, so what the hell do they do?