I submit that an individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and willingly accepts the penalty by staying in ...jail in order to arouse the conscience of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the very highest respect for law.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Let me tell you something. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to. Unless they make themselves get caught. They don't have things... organized.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
You've been trying to keep an honest accounting of city monies. You've been dealing with politicians. You've been standing up for ...your own rights, haven't you? Naturally you landed in jail.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Just across the Green from the post office is the county jail, seldom occupied except by some backwoodsman who has been intemperat...e; the courthouse is under the same roof. The dog warden usually basks in the sunlight near the harness store or the post office, his golden badge polished bright.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
This is the only "wet" community in a wide area, and is the rendezvous of cow hands seeking to break the monotony of chuck wagon f...ood and range life. Friday night is the "big time" for local cowboys, and consequently the calaboose is called the "Friday night jail."LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
In short, camp mocks bad taste; kitsch exploits it. Camp arouses our sense of the ridiculous and we respond with amused tolerance.... When we see Bette Davis or Ruth Gordon, fine if sometimes flamboyant performers, relax their self-discipline and overextend their acting technique in a superfluity of ineffective gestures--finger-twitching and hip-switching, hand-rubbing or hip-protruding--we label the sum total as camp. Mae West, whose nasally provocative delivery, eye-rolling, lip-pursing, and pelvic tics parody the conventional invitation to dalliance, is never out of control and is camp, pure and simple.... Camp was also the stock-in-trade of Carmen Miranda, whose retina-searing Technicolor get-ups, skyscraper headdresses bearing a season's fruit harvest, clomping platform shoes and garbled English projected in a voice that could be heard on Mars all came together beautifully in her campy personification of Exaggeration. Had we been blessed with the Brazilian Bombshell's own blazing interpretation of Joan of Arc, the grotesque, if fascinating, result would surely have been kitsch.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
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. All this stuff you read about men yelling and screaming, beating against the bars, running spoons along them, guards rushing in with clubs--all that is for the big house. A good jail is one of the quietest places in the world.... Life in jail is in suspension.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »