I have been studying how I may compare This prison where I live unto the world; And, for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.
Prisons don't rehabilitate, they don't punish, they don't protect, so what the hell do they do?
I sometimes wish that people would put a little more emphasis upon the observance of the law than they do upon its enforcement.
One man meets an infamous punishment for that crime which confers a diadem upon another.
Kill a man, and you are an assassin. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill everyone, and you are a God.
When is conduct a crime, and when is a crime not a crime? When Somebody Up There -- a monarch, a dictator, a Pope, a legislator -- so decrees.
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.
Since 1957, black people have experienced double-digit unemployment - in good times and bad times. Look at the population of African Americans in prison. They represent more than half the population of prisoners in the country, 55 percent of those on death row.
The object of punishment is prevention from evil; it never can be made impulsive to good.
To be in prison so long, it's difficult to remember exactly what you did to get there.
We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.
If punishment reaches not the mind and makes not the will supple, it hardens the offender.