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“Let's just say that Pitt has a ton of balls, the brains to go with them, and an uncanny knack for knocking the shit out of any obstacle, man made or otherwise, that gets in his way. He is a soft touch with kids and animals, and helps little old ladies up escalators. To my knowledge, he's never stolen a dime in his life nor used his sly talents for personal gain. Beyond all that, he's one helluva guy.”
― Al Giordino

“If Pitt tells you there's a Santa Claus, hang your stocking on the mantel, because you better believe it.”
― Al Giordino

“As they stood on the curb Giordino turned and looked back over his shoulder at the bar and grill. "Did that old fisherman look familiar to you?"
"Now that you mention it, there was something about him that struck a chord."
"We never did get his name."
"Next time we see him," said Pitt, "we'll have to ask if we've ever met."

Back in Charlie's Fish Dock restaurant and bar, the old fisherman glanced up at the bar as the bartender yelled across the room at him.
"Hey, Cussler. You want another beer?"
"Why not?" The old man nodded. "One more brew before I hit the road won't hurt.”
― Clive Cussler, Flood Tide

“This Haida fisherman was in the john when his friends unknowingly left him behind. Please see that he gets to the dock before the fishing fleet departs.

C. Cussler
Chief Forman”
― Clive Cussler, Shock Wave

“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.”
― Clive Cussler, Inca Gold

“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.”
― Clive Cussler, Inca Gold

“If anybody questions you, just say you're friends of the Bayou Kid. That's what some people call me around here. Except for my old fishing pal, Tom Straight, the bartender. He still calls me by my given name.”
― Clive Cussler, Flood Tide

“I never got Dad's name."
"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."
"Whoever.”
― Clive Cussler, Atlantis Found

“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.”
― Clive Cussler, Dragon

“Giordino: I've been wanting to say this, but you look vaguely familiar.
The Kid: Can't imagine why. I don't recall meeting up with you fellas before.
Giordino: Would I offend you if I asked you your real name?
The Kid: Not at all, I don't take offense easily. It's an odd name. Never used it much. It's Clive Cussler.
Giordino: You're right, it is an odd name.”
― Clive Cussler, Sahara