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Louis Sachar

Louis Sachar Books

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Holes

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The Cardturner

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Small Steps

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“What do you eat?” she asked. “Mulligan stew,” said Bob. “My friends and I collect scraps of food all day, and then we cook it up in a big pot and share it. It’s always different, but very tasty.” “Why is it called mulligan stew?” asked Stephen. “There was once a hobo named Mulligan,” said Bob. “He made the first mulligan stew.” “Was he a good cook?” asked Todd. “No, he was eaten by cannibals.”

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Book:Wayside School is Falling Down
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“No one’s ever brought me flowers before,” said Mr. Kidswatter. “You may not believe this, Louis, but I don’t have many friends.” He put his hand on Louis’s shoulder. “You’re like a son to me,” he said. “And you’re a maggot-infested string bean,” muttered Louis. “What?” asked Mr. K. “I said, you’re a magnificent human being.”

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Book:Wayside School Gets A Little Stranger
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“There are two elevators. One is blue. One is red. When you want to go up, you take the blue elevator. When you want to go down, you take the red elevator. It’s that simple. It can’t go wrong! The blue one only goes up. And the red one only goes down.” And so, at last, Wayside School got elevators. A blue one and a red one. They each worked perfectly one time — and never could be used again.”

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Book:Wayside School Gets A Little Stranger
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“I have a package for somebody named Mrs. Jewls,” he said. “I’ll take it,” said Louis. “Are you Mrs. Jewls?” asked the man. “No,” said Louis. “I have to give it to Mrs. Jewls,” said the man. Louis thought a moment. He didn’t want the man disturbing the children. He knew how much they hated to be interrupted when they were working. “I’m Mrs. Jewls,” he said. “But you just said you weren’t Mrs. Jewls,” said the man. “I changed my mind,” said Louis. The man got the package out of the back of the truck and gave it to Louis. “Here you go, Mrs. Jewls,” he said.”

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Book:Wayside School is Falling Down
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“But don't forget who you really are. And I'm not talking about your so-called real name. All names are made up by someone else, even the one your parents gave you. You know who you really are. When you're alone at night, looking up at the stars, or maybe lying in your bed in total darkness, you know that nameless person inside you. Your life is about to be ripped apart. You will be turned into a digging machine. Your muscles will toughen. So will your heart and soul. That's necessary for survival. But don't lose touch with that person deep inside you, or else you won't really have survived at all.”

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Book:Stanley Yelnats' Survival Guide to Camp Green Lake
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“-“I think everyone has ‘good’ inside him. Everyone can feel happiness, and sadness and loneliness. But sometimes people think someone’s a monster. But that’s only because they can’t see the ‘good’ that’s there inside him. And then a terrible thing happens.” -“They kill him?” -“No, even worse. They call him a monster, and other people start calling him a monster, and everyone treats him like a monster, and then after a while, he starts believing it himself. He thinks he’s a monster too. So he acts like one. But he still isn’t a monster. He still has lots of good, buried deep inside him.”

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Book:There's a Boy in the Girls' Bathroom
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“-Я думаю, что в каждом существе сидит кто-то хороший. Все бывают счастливы, всем бывает грустно и одиноко. Но иногда вдруг люди начинают считать кого-то монстром. Просто потому что они не видят того хорошего, который в нём сидит. И тогда происходит нечто ужасное. — Они его убивают? — Нет, хуже. Они называют его монстром, и другие люди тоже начинают называть его монстром, и все относятся к нему как к чудовищу, и через некоторое время он и сам начинает верить, что он чудовище. Он считает себя монстром и ведёт себя как монстр. Но при этом он вовсе не чудовище. В глубине души он очень, очень хороший.”

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Book:There's a Boy in the Girls' Bathroom
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“It's a lost and lonely kind of feeling, To wake up wearing a disguise. I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, I don't know who I am There's little that I can Fully recognize.... But I'm taking small steps, 'Cause I don't know where I'm going. I'm taking small steps And I don't know what to say. Small steps, Trying to pull myself together, And maybe I'll discover A clue along the way.... Just to make it through the day and not to get hurt, Seems about the best that I can hope. Like coffee stains splattered on your sweatshirt There isn't any pattern. Everything's uncertain. It's difficult to cope.... But I'm taking small steps, 'Cause I don't know where I'm going. I'm taking small steps, And I've forgotten how to play. Small steps, Trying to pull myself together, And maybe I'll discover, A clue along the way.... And if someday my small steps bring me near you, Please don't rush to tell me all you feel. You don't have to speak for me to hear you. If I softly sigh, Look me in the eye And let me know I'm real.... Then we'll take small steps, 'Cause we won't know where we're going. We'll take small steps, And we'll have too much to say. Small steps, Hand in hand we'll walk together, And maybe we'll discover A clue along the way.... Small steps, 'Cause I don't know where I'm goin'. Small steps, I just take it day to day. Small steps, Somehow get myself together, Then maybe I'll discover Who I am on the way....”

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Book:Small Steps
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“What scared Stanley the most about dying wasn't his actual death. He figured he could handle the pain. It wouldn't be much worse than what he felt now. In fact, maybe at the moment of his death he would be too weak to feel pain. Death would be a relief. What worried him the most was the thought of his parents not knowing what happened to him, not knowing whether he was dead or alive. He hated to imagine what it would be like for his mother and father, day after day, month after month, not knowing, living on false hope. For him, at least, it would be over. For his parents, the pain would never end.”

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Book:Holes
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“I remember my fourth grade teacher reading 'Charlotte's Web' and 'Stuart Little' to us - both, of course, by E. B. White. His stories were genuinely funny, thought provoking and full of irony and charm. He didn't condescend to his readers, which was why I liked his books, and why I wasn't a big reader of other children's' books.”

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Author:Louis Sachar
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“But don't forget who you really are. And I'm not talking about your so-called real name. All names are made up by someone else, even the one your parents gave you. You know who you really are. When you're alone at night, looking up at the stars, or maybe lying in your bed in total darkness, you know that nameless person inside you...Your muscles will toughen. So will your heart and soul. That's necessary for survival. But don't lose touch with that person deep inside you, or else you won't really have survived at all.”

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Book:Stanley Yelnats' Survival Guide to Camp Greenlake
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