I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky.
To seek the redress of grievances by going to law, is like sheep running for shelter to a bramble bush.
When you are younger you get blamed for crimes you never committed and when you're older you begin to get credit for virtues you never possessed. It evens itself out.
No man survives when freedom fails. The best men rot in filthy jails, and those who cry 'appease, appease' are hanged by those they tried to please.
They were being driven to a prison, through no fault of their own, in all probability for life. In comparison, how much easier it would be to walk to the gallows than to this tomb of living horrors!
Women now have choices. They can be married, not married, have a job, not have a job, be married with children, unmarried with children. Men have the same choice we've always had: work, or prison.
A man will be imprisoned in a room with a door that's unlocked and opens inwards, as long as it does not occur to him to pull rather than push.
Virtue pardons the wicked, as the sandal-tree perfumes the axe which strikes it.
Definition, rationality, and structure are ways of seeing, but they become prisons when they blank out other ways of seeing.
Why would anyone expect him to come out smarter? He went to prison for three years, not Princeton.
The world itself is but a large prison, out of which some are daily led to execution.
I wrote a million words in the first year, and I could never have done that outside of prison.