If punishment reaches not the mind and makes not the will supple, it hardens the offender.
Nor cell, nor chain, nor dungeon speaks to the murderer like the voice of solitude.
The number of laws is constantly growing in all countries and, owing to this, what is called crime is very often not a crime at all, for it contains no element of violence or harm.
If we look at Houston, which is a very environmentally toxic place, we find that it has one of the highest levels of young men going to prison and also among the highest levels of illiteracy in the country.
Prison, dungeons, blessed places where evil is impossible because they are the crossroads of all the evil in the world. One cannot commit evil in hell.
Society has used the juvenile courts to create a caste system where there are throw-away people.
Here the great art lies, to discern in what the law is to be to restraint and punishment, and in what things persuasion only is to work.
I can tell you this on a stack of Bibles: prisons are archaic, brutal, unregenerative, overcrowded hell holes where the inmates are treated like animals with absolutely not one humane thought given to what they are going to do once they are released. You're an animal in a cage and you're treated like one.
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
To seek the redress of grievances by going to law, is like sheep running for shelter to a bramble bush.
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.
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.
We who live in prison, and in whose lives there is no event but sorrow, have to measure time by throbs of pain, and the record of bitter moments.
I don't like being famous - it is like a prison. And driving for Ferrari would make it far worse.
Virtue pardons the wicked, as the sandal-tree perfumes the axe which strikes it.