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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.
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Don't make the mistake of bringing your heart down here with you, there is no place for it in Furnace.
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When you're locked up in here for life, you learn to welcome the little freedoms.
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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.
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Like I've said before, so many times before, I'm not a good person, I'm not a hero. I'm a criminal, a liar, a cheat, a killer. It was them or me and I wanted to live.
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Knackered inmates are easier to control than pumped-up ones. And dead inmates are even easier to control, if you follow me.
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It felt like I´d been lying on that bed for a thousand years, tormented by every demon possible.
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You don't see heroism, humanity and hope like you do in a horror story. Horror celebrates the kind of friendship that keeps you standing shoulder to shoulder with someone even when the world is falling apart around you.
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Nobody cares. You shouldn't either.
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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.