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Clive Cussler Quotes

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Clive Cussler Quotes

“The bartender/cook looked as if he might have been a fixture of the desert even before the rails were laid. He had the worn look of a man who had seen more than he should and heard a thousand stories that remained in his head, classified and indexed as drama, humor, or horror. There was also an unmistakable aura of style about him, a sophistication that said he didn't belong in a godforsaken roadside tavern on a remote and seldom-traveled road through the desert. For a fleeting instant, Pitt thought the old cook looked vaguely familiar. On reflection, though, Pitt figured the man only resembled someone he couldn't quite place.”

“Loren held out her hand. "It's been fun listening to your stories, Mr...." The old cook smiled. "Cussler, Clive Cussler. Mighty nice to have met you, ma'am." When they were on the road again, the Pierce Arrow and its trailer smoothly rolling toward the border crossing, Pitt turned to Loren. "For a moment there, I thought the old geezer might have given me a clue to the treasure site." "You mean Yaeger's far-out translation about a river running under an island?" "It still doesn't seem geologically possible." Loren turned the rearview mirror to reapply her lipstick. "If the river flowed deep enough it might conceivably pass under the Gulf." "Maybe, but there's no way in hell to know for certain without drilling through several kilometers of hard rock." "You'll be lucky just to find your way to the treasure cavern without a major excavation." Pitt smiled as he stared at the road ahead. "He could really spin the yarns, couldn't he?" "The old cook? He certainly had an active imagination." "I'm sorry I didn't get his name." Loren settled back in the seat and gazed out her window as the dunes gave way to a tapestry of mesquite and cactus. "He told me what it was." "And?" "It was an odd name." She paused, trying to remember. Then she shrugged in defeat. "Funny thing...I've already forgotten it.”

“When the Hispano-Suiza pulled alongside, Pitt walked over and introduced himself as the driver stepped from behind the wheel to recheck his hood latches. "I guess we'll be competing against each other. My name is Dirk Pitt." The driver of the Hispano, a big man with greying hair, a white beard, and blue-green eyes, stuck out a hand. "Clive Cussler." Pitt looked at him strangely. "Do we know each other?" "It's possible," replied Cussler, smiling. "Your name is familiar, but I can't place your face." "Perhaps we met at a party or a car club meet." "Perhaps.”