There is no greater punishment of wickedness that that it is dissatisfied with itself and its deeds.
Wicked deeds are generally done, even with impunity, for the mere desire of occupation.
Prisons don't rehabilitate, they don't punish, they don't protect, so what the hell do they do?
Women have worked hard; starved in prison; given of their time and lives that we might sit in the House of Commons and take part in the legislating of this country.
There are few better measures of the concern a society has for its individual members and its own well being than the way it handles criminals.
It is impossible to go through life without trust: That is to be imprisoned in the worst cell of all, oneself.
Justice is that virtue of the soul which is distributive according to desert.
The public have more interest in the punishment of an injury than he who receives it.
To seek the redress of grievances by going to law, is like sheep running for shelter to a bramble bush.
We don't seem to be able to check crime, so why not legalize it and then tax it out of business.
Any punishment that does not correct, that can merely rouse rebellion in whoever has to endure it, is a piece of gratuitous infamy which makes those who impose it more guilty in the eyes of humanity, good sense and reason, nay a hundred times more guilty than the victim on whom the punishment is inflicted.
When the Nazis came for the communists, I remained silent; I was not a communist. When they locked up the social democrats, I remained silent; I was not a social democrat. When they came for the trade unionists, I did not speak out; I was not a trade unionist. When they came for me, there was no one left to speak out.
What restrains us from killing is partly fear of punishment, partly moral scruple, and partly what may be described as a sense of humor.
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.
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrist? And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists? And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air? Oh they're taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.