Beverly Cleary
Beverly Cleary (April 12, 1916 - March 25, 2021) was the author of over 30 books for young adults and children. Her characters are normal children facing challenges that many of us face growing up, and her stories are liberally laced with humour. Some of her best known and loved characters are Ramona Quimby and her sister Beatrice ("Beezus"), Henry Huggins, and Ralph S. Mouse.
Beverly Cleary was born Beverly Atlee Bunn in McMinnville, Oregon. When she was 6, her family moved to Portland, Oregon, where she went to grammar and high school. She was slow in learning to read, due partly to her dissatisfaction with the books she was required to read and partly to an unpleasant first grade teacher. It wasn't until she was in third grade that she found enjoyment from books, when she started reading The Dutch Twins by Lucy Fitch Perkins. Thereafter, she was a frequent visitor to the library, though she rarely found the books she most wanted to read — those about children like herself.
She moved to California to attend the University of California, Berkeley, and after graduation with a B.A in English in 1938, studied at the School of Librarianship at the University of Washington in Seattle, where she earned a degree in librarianship in 1939. Her first job was as a librarian in Yakima, Washington, where she met many children who were searching for the same books that she had always hoped to find as a child herself. In response, she wrote her first book, Henry Huggins, which was published in 1950. Beezus and Ramona, Cleary's first novel to feature the Quimby sisters as the central focus of the story, was published in 1955, although Beezus and Ramona made frequent appearances in the Henry Huggins series as supporting characters.
In 1940 she married Clarence T. Cleary and they moved to Oakland, California. The Clearys became parents to a set of twins, Marianne Elisabeth and Malcolm James, in 1955. Clarence Cleary died in 2004. Beverly Cleary lived in Carmel, California until her death in 2021 at the age of one-hundred and four.
She also wrote two autobiographies, A Girl from Yamhill and My Own Two Feet.
“Halfway to the house Stan stopped and turned to Jane. He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her toward him."I'm glad we're going steady," he whispered."So am I."In spite of the reassuring weight of his bracelet on her wrist, Jane suddenly felt shy. It seemed strange to be so close to Stan, to feel his crisp clean shirt against her cheek. She could not look up at him. Gently Stan lifted her face to his. "You're my girl," he whispered.-Fifteen”
“He seemed grown-up, compared to the boys at school, and although he was not handsome, or even particularly good-looking—there were still some scars on his face from the skin trouble he had when he was younger—his face was agreeable because it was so. . . . What was the word? Kind, perhaps. Or gentle. But strong, too. He was genuinely glad to see all of Sue’s family, and when Sue entered the room and he helped her on with her coat, Jean thought he acted as if her sister was someone precious to him.”
“If there's one thing I can't stand, its a cheeky mouse.”
“If she can't spell, she shouldn't be a librarian.”
“All knowledge is valuable to a librarian.”
“One rainy Sunday when I was in the third grade, I picked up a book to look at the pictures and discovered that even though I did not want to, I was reading. I have been a reader ever since.”
“If you don't see the book you want on the shelves, write it.”
“Ramona stepped back into her closet, slid the door shut, pressed an imaginary button, and when her imaginary elevator had made its imaginary descent, stepped out onto the real first floor and raced a real problem. Her mother and father were leaving for Parents' Night.”
“Once more Jane sat staring at the telephone. This time she was filled with a confidence that was new to her. Stan Crandall. Stanley Crandall. He liked her! He had seen her once, and even though had been rumpled and grass-stained and having a terrible time with Sandra, he liked her well enough to go to the trouble of finding out her name and calling to ask her to go to the movies. Jane smiled at the telephone and gave a sigh of happiness”
“I know this is probably sort of sudden." The boy hesitated. "But I was wodnering if you would care to go to the movies with me tomorrow night.”
“If they had been riding in a car, she would have waited for him to go around and open the door for her, but riding in a truck is different”
“Oh well, thought Jane, that's how men are. He's probably taking it for granted. She found it very pleasant to be taken for granted by Stan”
“Well, she thought, I'm certainly bright. She had wanted to meet a new boy and when she finally did meet one she didn't even find out his name”
“That was the trouble with this house. A girl couldn't even carry on a telephone conversation with any privacy”
“The humiliation that Jane had felt turned to something else--grief perhaps, or regret. Regret that she had not known how to act with a boy, regret that she had not been wiser.”
“She was surprised to feel his hand on her arm and still more surprised-almost unbelieving-to see his fingers unclasp his identification bracelet and remove it from his arm. Silently he fumbled with the bracelet and slipped it around her right wrist. with a tiny click he snapped the clasp shut. Jane gave a gasp of astonishment and turned questioning to Stan. She was wearing his identification bracelet! The silver links on her wrist were still warm from his arm”
“He would be atleast sixteen-old enough to have a driver's licence- and he would have crinkles around his eyes that showed he had a sense of humor and he would be tall, the kind of boy all the other girls would like to date”
“She means well, but she always manages to do the wrong thing. She has a real talent for it.”
“All her life she had wanted to squeeze the toothpaste really squeeze it,not just one little squirt...The paste coiled and swirled and mounded in the washbasin. Ramona decorated the mound with toothpaste roses as if it was a toothpaste birthday cake”
“I had a very wise mother. She always kept books that were my grade level in our house.”
“She was not a slowpoke grownup. She was a girl who could not wait. Life was so interesting she had to find out what happened next.”
“Problem solving, and I don't mean algebra, seems to be my life's work. Maybe it's everyone's life's work.”
“Neither the mouse nor the boy was the least bit surprised that each could understand the other. Two creatures who shared a love for motorcycles naturally spoke the same language.”
“After Father had served the chicken and mashed potatoes and peas and Mother had passed the hot rolls, Beezus decidedthe time had come to tell Aunt Beatrice about being Sacajawea. "Do you know what I did last week?" she began. "I want some jelly," said Ramona "You mean, 'Please pass the jelly,' "corrected Mother while Beezus waited patiently. 'No, what did you do last week?" asked Aunt Beatrice. "Well, last week I-" Beezus began again. " like purple jelly better then red jelly," said Ramona. ' Ramona , stop interrupting your sister," said Father. "Well, Ido like purple jelly better then red jelly," insisted Ramona."Never mind," said Mother. "Go no, Beezus." Last week-" said Beezus, looking at her aunt, who smiled as if she understood."Excuse me, Beezus," Mother cut in. "Ramona, we do not put jelly on our mashed potatoes." "I like jelly on my mashed potatoes."Ramona stirred potato and jelly aroud with her fork. "Ramona you heard what your mother said." Father looked stern. "If I can ut butter on my mashed potateos, why can't I put jelly? I put butter and jelly on toast," said Ramona. Father couldn't help laughing. "That's a hard question to answer." "But Mother-" Beezus began."I like jelly on my mashed potateos," interrupted Ramona, looking sulky.”
“Words were so puzzling. Present should mean a present just as attack should mean to stick tacks in people.”
“I am not a pest," Ramona Quimby told her big sister Beezus.”
“Didn't the people who made those license plates care about little girls named Ramona?”
“Quite often somebody will say, 'What year do your books take place?' and the only answer I can give is, in childhood.”
“He was dressed as if everything he wore had come from different stores or from a rummage sale, except that the crease in his trousers was sharp and his shoes were shined.”