Only another twenty thousand or so days of this to go.

Better to be a spirit with the earth beneath you than a corpse pinned tight by the weight of the world.

You don't have friends in here, you'll soon come to understand that. You get attached to someone, then you'll just lose them. They'll get shanked or they'll jump or they'll be taken one night.

The human mind is a powerful thing in many ways, but in others it's endlessly fragile—it takes only a single moment of pure terror to tear a hole in it, like a finger through a cobweb, leaving you forever just a shadow, a half-person.

Knackered inmates are easier to control than pumped-up ones. And dead inmates are even easier to control, if you follow me.

There always has to be someone to take the punches. That's how it works. It isn't fair, it isn't right, but that kid licking slop off the floor over there means that we get to eat in peace.

One last breath. We all have to take one eventually. It was over.