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