With this paragraph my father begins the introduction to his book
_Prison Palimpsests_, a collection of inscriptions and documents
revealing the inmost thoughts of prisoners.

In the first part, these inscriptions are classified under different
headings: opinions on prison life, penalties, morality, women, etc., and
according to the surface on which they are inscribed--books, walls,
pitchers, clothing, paper, etc.

For the psychologist and the student of degenerate types of humanity,
this collection is of the greatest interest. The inscriptions are
followed by a series of poems, autobiographies, and letters written by
intending suicides, and criminals immediately before their execution.
The comments made by criminals on the margins of books belonging to the
prison library are especially interesting, because they enable the
student to compare the effect produced on criminals by certain works
with the impressions of normal individuals. The poems written by
prisoners are equally interesting, since, like popular songs, they
represent the intimate expression of the poet's desires and aspirations.

In the second part, these prison inscriptions are compared with the
remarks commonly found scribbled in the streets, on school benches, and
on the walls of public buildings of all kinds--courts of justice, places
of worship, and even those edifices in which the legislation of the
State is framed. All the inscriptions are classified according to the
sentiments they express and the sex of the writer, distinction being
made between the writings of prisoners and those of the ordinary public.

The book closes with practical suggestions regarding the use to which
similar collections might be put, as critical hints on the present
methods of dealing with criminals and as an aid in investigating the
characters of accused persons.

All offenders, except the most degenerate types, born criminals or the
morally insane, desire work or occupation of some kind, and books of an
interesting character. This demand emanates from innumerable
inscriptions on the walls of cells and the margins of prison books: "How
unbearable is enforced idleness for a man who has always been
accustomed to work and study, and in whom activity and the desire of
some ennobling pursuit are not quite extinct!" ... "The nun of Cracow
cried, 'Bread, bread!' but my voice pleads from my solitary cell, 'Work,
work!'"

"If jurists would leave their desks and libraries,"