Explore popular quotes and sayings by an American author Jack Henry Abbott.
Last updated on December 22, 2024.
Jack Henry Abbott was an American criminal and author. With a long history of criminal convictions, Abbott's writing concerning his life and experiences was lauded by a number of well-known literary critics, including author Norman Mailer. Due partly to lobbying by Mailer and others on Abbott's behalf, Abbott was released from prison during 1981 where he was serving sentences for forgery, manslaughter and bank robbery. Abbott's memoir In the Belly of the Beast was published to positive reviews soon after his release. Six weeks after being paroled from prison, Abbott stabbed and killed a waiter outside a New York City cafe. Abbott was convicted and sent back to prison, where he took his life in 2002.
Because there is something helpless and weak and innocent - something like an infant - deep inside us all that really suffers in ways we would never permit an insect to suffer.
I escaped one time. In 1971 I was in the free world for six weeks.
Paranoia is an illness I contracted in institutions. It is not the reason for my sentences to reform school and prison. It is the effect, not the cause.
When I'm forced by circumstances to be in a crowd of prisoners, it's all I can do to refrain from attack.
The part of me which wanders through my mind and never sees or feels actual objects, but which lives in and moves through my passions and my emotions, experiences this world as a horrible nightmare.
The other inmates stand in a long straight line, flanked by guards, and I am dragged past them. I do not respect them, because they will not run - will not try to escape.
I find it painful and angering to look in a mirror.
One morning I woke up and was plunged into psychological shock. I had forgotten I was free.
I've wanted somehow to convey to you the sensations - the atmospheric pressure, you might say - of what it is to be seriously a long-term prisoner in an American prison.
There was never sufficient evidence presented at my trial to support a finding of intent to kill.
Nothing is over and done with. Nothing. Not even your malice.
I have been desperate to escape for so many years now, it is routine for me to try to escape.
My eyes, my brain seek out escape routes wherever I am sent.
When they talk of ghosts of the dead who wander in the night with things still undone in life, they approximate my subjective experience of this life.
That is how prison is tearing me up inside. It hurts every day. Every day takes me further from my life.
Imagine a thousand more such daily intrusions in your life, every hour and minute of every day, and you can grasp the source of this paranoia, this anger that could consume me at any moment if I lost control.
To be in prison so long, it's difficult to remember exactly what you did to get there.
As long as I am nothing but a ghost of the civil dead, I can do nothing.