I was in prison, and you came unto me. Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
~(Jesus Christ) Matthew 25:36, 40
A Sunday school is a prison in which children do penance for the evil conscience of their parents.
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.
It is certain that the study of human psychology, if it were undertaken exclusively in prisons, would also lead to misrepresentation and absurd generalizations.
The common argument that crime is caused by poverty is a kind of slander on the poor.
There is no peace because the making of peace is at least as costly as the making of war - at least as exigent, at least as disruptive, at least as liable to bring disgrace and prison and death in its wake.
The reformative effect of punishment is a belief that dies hard, chiefly I think, because it is so satisfying to our sadistic impulses.
It is not at the table, but in prison, that you learn who your true friends are.
Trial by jury itself, instead of being a security to persons who are accused, shall be a delusion, a mockery, and a snare.
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.
To make punishments efficacious, two things are necessary. They must never be disproportioned to the offence, and they must be certain.
Crime is a logical extension of the sort of behavior that often [is] considered perfectly respectable in legitimate business.
No obligation to justice does force a man to be cruel, or to use the sharpest sentence.
Once we are destined to live out our lives in the prison of our mind, our duty is to furnish it well.
The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons.
If you want total security, go to prison. There you’re fed, clothed, given medical care and so on. The only thing lacking…is freedom.
If it's near dinner-time, the foreman takes out his watch when the jury has retired, and says: "Dear me, gentlemen, ten minutes to five, I declare! I dine at five, gentlemen." "So do I," says everybody else, except two men who ought to have dined at three and seem more than half disposed to stand out in consequence. The foreman smiles, and puts up his watch:--"Well, gentlemen, what do we say, plaintiff or defendant, gentlemen?
Virtue pardons the wicked, as the sandal-tree perfumes the axe which strikes it.