“You know," he said to his mother, "I don't want to belong to the well-to-do middle class. I like my common people best. I belong to the common people." - Sons and Lovers”

“I want to belong to you, like a name. I want to be a thing people have to know to know you.”

“Do you think it will always be this way?”“What?”“I mean, when do we start feeling like the world belongs to us?”I wanted to tell him that the world would never belong to us. “I don't know,” I said. “Tomorrow.”

“But-! I say! The common conventions of humanity-''Are all very well for common people.”

“You can’t tell mewhat to do anymore, Travis! I don’t belong to you!”In the second it took him to turn and face me, hisexpression had contorted into anger. He stomped towardme, planting his hands on the bed and leaning into my face.“WELL I BELONG TO YOU!” The veins in his neckbulged as he shouted, and I met his glare, refusing to evenflinch. He looked at my lips, panting. “I belong to you.”

“Some people know they are going to heaven and those they do not like are going to hell. I am going where the Boss puts me. He knows where I belong better than I do.”