The difference between tax avoidance and tax evasion is the thickness of a prison walls.
Prison continues, on those who are entrusted to it, a work begun elsewhere, which the whole of society pursues on each individual through innumerable mechanisms of discipline.
In jail a man has no personality. He is a minor disposal problem and a few entries on reports. Nobody cares who loves or hates him, what he looks like, what he did with his life. Nobody reacts to him unless he gives trouble. Nobody abuses him. All that is asked of him is that he go quietly to the right cell and remain quiet when he gets there. There is nothing to fight against, nothing to be mad at. The jailers are quiet men without animosity or sadism.
Prisons don't rehabilitate, they don't punish, they don't protect, so what the hell do they do?
The object of punishment is prevention from evil; it never can be made impulsive to good.
We're in a war. People who blast some pot on a casual basis are guilty of treason.
Definition, rationality, and structure are ways of seeing, but they become prisons when they blank out other ways of seeing.
You utter a vow, or forge a signature, and you may find yourself bound for life to a monastery, a woman, or prison.
It is hard, but it is excellent, to find the right knowledge of when correction is necessary and when grace doth most avail.
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.
Crimes lead one into another; they who are capable of being forgers are capable of being incendiaries.
I asked a man in prison once how he happened to be there and he said he had stolen a pair of shoes. I told him if he had stolen a railroad he would be a United States Senator.
Intellectual despair results in neither weakness nor dreams, but in violence. It is only a matter of knowing how to give vent to one's rage; whether one only wants to wander like madmen around prisons, or whether one wants to overturn them.
The only real prison is fear, and the only real freedom is freedom from fear.
It was only when I lay there on the rotting prison straw that I sensed within myself the first stirrings of good. Gradually it was disclosed to me that the line separating good and evil passes not between states nor between social classes nor between political parties, but right through every human heart, through all human hearts. And that is why I turn back to the years of my imprisonment and say, sometimes to the astonishment of those about me, bless you, prison, for having been a part of my life.