Of course at the time I was hardly conscious of the changes that were occurring in my own mind.

One of the most horrible features of war is that all the war-propaganda, all the screaming and lies and hatred, comes invariably from people who are not fighting.

the New Statesman was treating us to tales of Fascist barricades made of the bodies of living children

it produced a shortage of everything and a dismal dull life for everybody,

Everyone who had been in Madrid said that it was completely different there. In Madrid the common danger forced people of almost all kinds into some sense of comradeship. A fat man eating quails while children are begging for bread is a disgusting sight, but you are less likely to see it when you are within sound of the guns.

I found exquisite green frogs the size of a penny, so brilliant that the young grass looked dull beside them.

there was no boss-class, no menial-class, no beggars, no prostitutes, no lawyers, no priests, no boot-licking, no cap-touching.

The Daily Mail, with its tales of red revolution financed by Moscow, was even more wildly wrong than usual.

I found myself in the middle of a political discussion that practically never ended.