Those magistrates who can prevent crime, and do not, in effect encourage it.
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.
On a planet that increasingly resembles one huge Maximum Security prison, the only intelligent choice is to plan a jail break.
The English laws punish vice; the Chinese laws do more, they reward virtue.
Money will determine whether the accused goes to prison or walks out of the courtroom a free man.
Three hundred years ago a prisoner condemned to the Tower of London carved on the wall of his cell this sentiment to keep up his spirits during his long imprisonment: “It is not adversity that kills, but the impatience with which we bear adversity.”
Civilization is maintained by a very few people in a small number of places and we need only some bombs and a few prisons to blot it out altogether.
I have been studying how I may compare this prison where I live unto the world; Shut up in the prison of their own consciences.
Virtue pardons the wicked, as the sandal-tree perfumes the axe which strikes it.
No written law has been more binding than unwritten custom supported by popular opinion.
The world itself is but a large prison, out of which some are daily led to execution.
The public have more interest in the punishment of an injury than he who receives it.
The object of punishment is prevention from evil; it never can be made impulsive to good.
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.