John Steinbeck

Ma shook her head.  “You can’t, Tom.  I know.  I knowed from the time you was a little fella.  You can’t.  They’s some folks that’s just theirself an’ nothin’ more.  There’s Al – he’s jus’ a young fella after a girl. You wasn’t never like that, Tom.”

“Sure I was,” said Tom.  “Still am.”

“No, you ain’t.  Ever’thing you do is more’n you.”

The Grapes of Wrath