We who live in prison, and in whose lives there is no event but sorrow, have to measure time by throbs of pain, and the record of bitter moments.
The worst of prison life, he thought, was not being able to close his door.
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.
By noiselessly going to a prison a civil-resister ensures a calm atmosphere.
It isn't true that convicts live like animals: animals have more room to move around.