Clive Cussler Quotes

To those of you who seek lost objects of history, I wish you the best of luck. They're out there, and they're whispering.

Giordino...simply sighed in resignation. "Who else," he asked no one in particular, "but Dirk Pitt could tramp off into a blizzard on an uninhabited backwater island in the Antarctic and discover a beautiful girl?

I must say one thing about southern down-home brewed coffee with chicory. If you have worms, you'll never have them again.

Time is a thief. It steals our memory, our hopes, and our strength, leaving only the sense there’s never enough of it.

Though neither of them had ever called their meeting a case of love at first sight, they'd both agreed it had certainly been a case of "pretty damned sure at first hour.

Life’s a daring adventure or nothing at all.

We’re not lost,” he said in a cheery tone. “We’re just locationally deficient and directionally challenged at the moment.

She was a Privately funded spy ship owned by the corporation and headed by Juan Cabtillo. The Oregon was his brain child and his one true love.

Americans have an annoying habit of accomplishing what they set out to do.

My daddy always said, ‘Luck never gives, it lends,

While like most men, Sam prided himself on being equipped with a supernatural internal compass that kept him from ever being lost, he'd also learned to concede those rare times when that compass seemed to be temporary disrepair.

A grief-stricken man is driven to defy the gods.

Deep, choking sobs that sounded like his soul was being torn apart. He clutched at his father and Max took his in his arms. "I am so sorry dad." Kyle sobbed. "And I forgive you because that is what fahters do" said Max

When power is up for grabs,” Pitt said, “the first casualty is often liberty.

Dangerous things, books." "Look what it did to your brain.

Not to worry,” said Giordino with humorous detachment. “If the inscriptions prove ancient, they’re probably nothing but a book of ancient recipes.” “Recipes for what?” inquired Helm. “Goat,” said Giordino moodily. “A thousand and one ways to serve goat.

Hitting the first molecules of the upper atmosphere created friction that merely warmed the rod. The lower it fell, the more the heat built, until the entire length of the rod glowed red then yellow, and, finally, a brilliant white.

A man accepts the thankless burden of responsibility. We women do not. To us, life is a game we play one day at a time.

Take away the clothes of the greatest living man, his father once told him, and you behold a very embarrassed, naked and defenseless animal.

fisherman had to be a combination biologist, meteorologist, mechanic and mariner. Their livelihood, their very lives, depended on their store of practical knowledge.

They who await no gifts from chance, conquer fate.

Great escape read, yet always come back again and again

Brendan shuddered. “Honestly? I’m not sure I can say Dirk without laughing. A less Dirk-like person could not exist. Who named you? Clive Cussler? Dirk Melovitch.

Relentless Savage is a great read! Dave Edlund's writing is on par with Clive Cussler and David Baldacci. Can't wait for the next one!

Readers, A few years ago, while I was writing Flood Tide, I realized that Dirk Pitt needed some help on a particular assignment, and so I dreamed up Juan Cabrillo. Cabrillo ran a ship called the Oregon, on the outside completely nondescript, but on the inside packed with state-of-the-art intelligence-gathering equipment. It was a completely private enterprise, available for any government agency that could afford it. It went where no warship could go, transported secret cargo without suspicion, plucked

We’ve been through all this a thousand times. I won’t subject myself to the indignities of pregnancy. I won’t swish crap-laden diapers around in a toilet bowl ten times a day. Let someone else populate the earth. I’m not about to split off my soul, like some damned amoeba.

Two unarmed men against six loaded for bear. We need to even the odds.” “Got a plan?” asked Giordino. “I certainly do.” Giordino gave the little man with the academic, nerdy look a bemused stare. “Is it evil, rotten, and sneaky?” Gunn nodded, with an impish grin. “All that, and more.”   THE

Unfortunately we have to remember we’re scientists, not writers of popular semifictional archaeological claptrap.

Yes, Istanbul does live up to its nickname as the ‘Queen of Cities.’ Born to the Greeks, raised by the Romans, and matured under the Ottomans.

A season with the herd and you’ll be riding like an arat,” Noyon said, referring to the local horsemen. “A season in that saddle and I’d be ready for traction,” Giordino grumbled.

octagonal barrel flickered

there is evil in this world. And all it takes for it to triumph is for good people to do nothing.

In 1892, mine owner L. L. Nunn had hired the electrical wizard Nikola Tesla to build the world’s first alternating-current power

I know you're the only pistol champion we have, but I'd rather they no see enough of you to hit. You're also the only wife I have..." "You're so sweet.' "...at the moment.

Yes, I am aware of the enticements required to obtain them,” Kang replied with distaste. “I believe the Russians could teach the West a thing or two about capitalistic extortion.

Hold on,' he shouted to the woman, realizing even as he spoke that she wasn't holding anything at all, but guessing that 'hang in there' would have had a terrible ring to it.

Reminds me of that urban legend about hearing voices in the white noise of a television tuned to a station that's off the air

Youth and vigor are no match for age and treachery.

Give me ambiguity or give me something else.

Life is as you yourself make it.

A man does not run among thorns for no reason; either he is chasing a snake or a snake is chasing him.

Iceland, the land of frost and fire, rugged glaciers and smoldering volcanoes,

Don’t give up on Jim Sandecker,” said Gunn. “He may have been blocked by the White House in securing the Roosevelt, but I’ll bet you a dinner with soft lights and music that he’ll come up with a replacement.” “You’re on,” she said, smiling thinly. “That’s a bed I’ll gladly lose.” He looked up curiously. “I beg your pardon?” “A Freudian slip.” She laughed tiredly. “I meant ‘bet.

In this century wars will not be fought over oil, as in the past, but over water. The situation is becoming desperate. The world's water is strained by population growth. There is no more fresh water on earth than two thousand years ago when the population was three percent of its current size. Even without the inevitable droughts, like the current one, it will get worse as demand and pollution increase. Some countries will simply run out of water, sparking a global refugee crisis. Tens of millions of people will flood across international borders. It means the collapse of fisheries, environmental destruction, conflict, lower living standards." She paused for a moment. "As people who deal with the ocean you must see the irony. We are facing a shortage on a planet whose surface is covered two-thirds with water.

Joe had the distinct impression they were getting in deeper than they expected with each turn, almost as if they’d hooked a small fish that had been eaten by a larger fish and was being chased by a giant shark.

You guys are of the belief that everything worth knowing is already on the Internet. There is ten times more information in libraries than on the Web. Probably a thousand times. You two go way beyond Google searches,

Giordino, on the other hand, simply sighed in resignation. “Who else,” he asked no one in particular, “but Dirk Pitt could tramp off into a blizzard on an uninhabited backwater island in the Antarctic and discover a beautiful girl?

The captain moniker derived from a tired blue hat he wore on his head. It was the classic captain’s hat favored by rich yachtsmen, sporting crossed gold anchors on its prow. Dahlgren’s hat, however, looked like it had been run over by an M-1 tank.

She was regarding her face in the mirror. She again had the allure that so captivated movie audiences. Gone were the ravages of last night's excess. Kevin had restored her face's artful mix of innocence and sex appeal. The sadness in her eyes was hers alone.

He opened the door, and his smile faded as his eyes went to the DUNKIN’ DONUTS emblazoned on the flat cardboard box in Paul’s hands. Perlmutter recoiled like a vampire being offered garlic, and would have fled into the house if Trout had not lifted the box’s lid.

Now, he thought, a satanic grin on his lips, I’ll show you an Immelmann. He threw the aircraft into a half loop and then snapped it over in a half roll, heading on a direct course toward the helicopter. “Write your will, sucker!” he shouted, his voice drowned out by the rush of wind and the roar of the engine’s exhaust. “Here comes the Red Baron.

Josh Thomas was sitting in Egan’s study, reading a chemical analysis journal, when he froze in fright. The rug in the center of the room suddenly rose from the floor as if a ghost were inside and then flew aside. A trapdoor beneath swung open and Pitt’s head popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “Sorry to intrude,” said Pitt with a cheery smile. “But I just happened to be passing by.

As they exited the conference room, Summer tugged at Dirk’s elbow. “So what did the data from Perlmutter cost you?” she chided, knowing the gourmet historian’s penchant for culinary blackmail. “Nothing much. Just a jar of pickled sea urchins and an eighty-year-old bottle of sake.” “You found those in Washington, D.C.?” Dirk gave his sister a pleading look of helplessness. “Well,” she laughed, “we do have six more hours in port.

If his submarine were caught on the surface in broad daylight, the mission to free Napoleon Bonaparte from exile would be over before it began. Delacroix lowered his spyglass and called down through the hatch. “Prepare to dive the boat!” Three men quickly lowered the sail in the gusting wind. With the bright sun at his back, Delacroix took one last look at the approaching frigate before ducking below and closing the copper hatch. His nostrils flared at the rank odor of fifteen men packed together inside the cramped quarters. “Did they spot us?” asked Yves Beaumont,

This is Lugovoy." "Who?" "Aleksei Lugovoy." "Is Willie dere?" asked a voice, heavy with the New York City accent that always grated on Lugovoy's ears. "There is no Willie here," Lugovoy said brusquely. "You must have the wrong number." Then he abruptly hung up. Lugovoy's face was expressionless, but a faint pallor was there that was missing before. He flexed his fists, inhaled deeply and eyed the phone, waiting. The light blinked and the phone chimed again. "Lugovoy." "You sure Willie ain't dere?" "WILLIE AIN'T HERE!" he replied, mimicking the caller's accent. He slammed the receiver onto the cradle.

No, seriously," Mark continued. "Once you've been involved for a while, do your charity work in some third world toilet, they start letting you in on some of the bigger secrets to Responsivism, and how the knowledge will save you." "Go on," Juan said to indulge him. Murph might be flakey, but he had a topflight mind. "Ever heard of 'brane theory?" He'd already talked with Eric about it so only Stone didn't return a blank stare. "It's right up there with string theory as a way of unifying all four forces in the universe, something Einstein couldn't do. In a nutshell, it says our four-dimensional universe is a single membrane, and that there are others existing in higher orders of space. These are so close to ours that zero-point matter and energy can pass between them and that gravitation forces in our universe can leak out. It's all cutting-edge stuff." "I'll take your word for it," Cabrillo said. "Anyway, "brane theory started to get traction among theoreti cal physicists in the mid-nineties, and Lydell Cooper glommed on to it, too. He took it a step further, though. It wasn't just quantum particles passing in and out of our universe. He believed that an intelligence from another 'brane was affecting people here in our dimension. This intelligence, he said, shaped our day-to-day lives in ways we couldn't sense. It was the cause of all our suffering. Just before his death, Cooper started to teach techniques to limit this influence, ways to protect ourselves from the alien power." "And people bought this crap?" Max asked, sinking deeper into depression over his son. "Oh yeah. Think about it from their side for a second. It's not a believer's fault that he is unlucky or depressed or just plain stupid. His life is being messed with across dimensional membranes It's an alien influence that cost you that promotion or prevented you from dating the girl of your dreams. It's a cosmic force holding you back, not your own ineptitude. If you believe that, then you don't have to take responsibility for your life. And we all know nobody takes responsibility for himself anymore. Responsivism gives you a ready-made excuse for your poor life choices.

© 2018

A young woman sat on the step in front of him, fiddling with the heel of a strappy shoe. She wore a white cocktail dress with a

Linda Ross Vice president of operations for the Corporation and U.S. Navy veteran.

and a hooked nose. His skin was the color of weak tea.

The guards made a cursory inspection of the boat, and had no desire to stain their starched and neatly pressed uniforms in the engine room after seeing Giordino looking like James Dean after the oil well came in in Giant.

Giordino looked at Pitt like he was crazy, then followed his gaze up the ravine. Overhead was a dark mass of rock buried beneath a thin layer of ice. Surveying the hillside, Giordino suddenly felt his jaw drop. It wasn’t a mound of rock at all, he realized with astonishment. Above them, embedded in the ice, the men found themselves staring at the wooden black hull of a nineteenth-century sailing ship. 80 THE EREBUS STOOD LIKE A FORGOTTEN RELIC OF a bygone era.

There are rattlesnakes around here.” His partner grinned in the dark. “Juan, that would be the least of our problems.” A minute later, the handheld radio on his belt chirped with two static transmissions. “That’s him. Let’s move.” They arose and put on light backpacks. Lights from the mine buildings were sprinkled across the hillside in front of them, casting a pale glow over the barren desert. They hiked a short distance to a chain-link fence that encircled the complex. The taller man knelt and rummaged through his pack for a pair of wire cutters. “Pablo, I think we can get through without cutting,” his partner whispered, then pointed to a dry wash that ran beneath the fence. The sandy ground was soft in the middle of the creek bed, and he easily pushed some of it aside with his foot. Pablo joined him in scraping away the loose soil until they had excavated a small hole beneath the fence. Pushing their packs under it, they quickly

closing it for her after she was seated.

shop

If a satellite in space ever mapped the myriad of lone tracks and trails across Mongolia, it would resemble a plate of spaghetti dropped on the floor.

Rakkaus - - vaanii meitä kuin kuolema ja verot.

Et voi ajatella, kun olet vihainen. Se on kaksin verroin totta, kun olet vihainen itsellesi.

well

previous afternoon. His heartbeat increased as he measured his opportunities of escape if he was discovered. They flat didn’t exist. A swimmer stood little chance of outrunning a pair of personal watercraft with a top speed of thirty miles per hour. Unless they were prepared to come after him underwater, all they had to do was outwait him until he exhausted

However, he hadn’t been this close to an agent from the MSS, China’s intelligence organization, since his CIA cover had been blown and he was forced to escape back to the United States. As a wanted fugitive, he’d been sentenced to death in absentia, with his face well known to China’s authorities. If Zhong Lin even suspected who he was, he would be whisked out of Vietnam in shackles to Beijing for a swift execution. His current disguise was meant to prevent that from happening. The real David Yao was a member of the Ghost Dragon triad, one of Taiwan’s most notorious gangs. Yao was suspected of being responsible for numerous extortion, racketeering, and murder plots, but his mutilated body had been found floating

through the door and immediately realized their luck was about to run out. Linda mumbled a curse in their ears

drove his new customized Tesla

it is now clear to me that behind a façade of amiable bumbling, you are extremely well informed about your fellow spies. In fact, I suspect you know more about them than the ships you’re supposed to be spying on.

Take away the clothes of the greatest living man, his father once told him, and you behold a very embarrassed, naked and defenseless animal. Pitt

Finally, slowly, like a newly lighted oil lamp gathering kerosene up into its wick, Wally’s face began to glow. He turned to Mack Fulton. “Mack, you know what’s on my mind?

Go like hell and go to the grave satisfied.” He

storm is still on track to pass right over us, so we’ll get the worst of it. Do you think we’ll be ready for it?

acquire a new target. It

She turned his

Arthur’s program of discounting diamonds throughout his vast chain of

Despite his size, Lincoln moved through the jungle with the easy grace of a predatory cat, finding the tiniest openings between the dense vegetation so as not to disturb anything. His feet seemed to barely brush the loamy ground. He was so stealthy that the background symphony of insects and bird cries never dropped in volume or rose in alarm.

The headache was a result of being drugged. And then the other horror hit him like a slap to the face, and he involuntarily gasped. He was in avian, driving away from their hotel. Kovac had given him only enough narcotic to make him compliant, like a drunk who needs to be led away from a party.

The headache was a result of being drugged. And then the other horror hit him like a slap to the face, and he involuntarily gasped. He was in a van, driving away from their hotel. Kovac had given him only enough narcotic to make him compliant, like a drunk who needs to be led away from a party.

You guys treat me like an equal. When I was designing weapons systems, these macho generals would strut around, looking at us like we were insects or something they had to scrape off the bottom of their shoe. Sure, they liked the toys we gave them, but they detested us for being able to deliver. It was like high school all over again, in the cafeteria, with the military guys sitting by themselves like a bunch of jocks and the rest of us hanging around the fringe, hoping to get noticed. Kinda pathetic, really.

Time is on our side. Not only will we erode America from the outside, but with the help of your own countrymen we will eventually cause it to crumble from within.

enemy

how

Samuelson was coming across as a light-in-the-loafers Michael Caine.

is almost a certainty that a well-planned offense will defeat an unplanned defense every single time.

You didn’t need to be lucky to be successful. You just needed to work hard.

could have cared less

When one loves one’s work, time and inconvenience have little meaning.

WARM SALT "A grad student investigates the tragic death of a diving partner and stumbles on a crime ring in Eshleman's debut thriller. An often engaging action novel, bolstered by its exotic setting and realistic protagonist." - Kirkus Reviews ICE BRINE "A diving pro and part owner of a Canadian undersea salvage company tangles with international criminals and multiple intelligence agencies. An exhilarating thriller; Clive Cussler fans will find that Peter Case floats their boat." - Kirkus Reviews CASE CLOSED "In Eshleman's 1980s-set novel, the third in his Peter Case trilogy, Case and sidekick Hal McDonald reluctantly abandon their marine salvage business on Vancouver Island to investigate a series of suspicious deaths. A quiet revenge story that morphs into a high-impact tale." - Kirkus Reviews

Chase

The name on an envelope that was sticking out of his pocket read ‘Clive Cussler.’ ” “That is an odd name. Yet it sounds vaguely familiar.

Juan had known the worst was yet to come as the world splintered on religious and tribal lines and the fighting emerged from the shadows.

no

mountain passes that

a simple thank you would have done nicely. Instead, your mouth flows with a diarrheal discharge of rudeness and sarcasm.