Quotes & Sayings About Pulsar

The Imperium made a solemn vow that if another Pulsar were to be born into our world," he continues, "that they would protect them at all costs in the hopes that a legend would arise again. — Giselle Simlett

O'Sah explained to me that there are four categories of Chosen, each more powerful than the last. First are Zeros, Chosen who possess barely any magic. Second are Phobien, Chosen who have a reasonable amount of magic. Then, there are Thrones, considered powerful and holding many influential positions across Duwyn. And last, the Pulsar, the strongest of Chosen, revered as almost god-like beings. — Giselle Simlett

It's like a pulsar inside me. There is this great burst of energy, forcing me to write, and then the star goes quiet for a time, and I think it's gone, but it's gathering energy for another burst. And I seem to be almost unwilling participants in this. — Richard Bach

Medicine I know. you tell me what a pulsar is and I'll tell you whatever you need to know about the organ of Zucker-kandl.
Sulu made a polite scoffing noise and explained anyway, ... — Janet Kagan

They then praise me for traits I don't think I even have. Amiable presence? Hah! Lady of legends? OK, that sounds pretty cool. But righteous? Honourable? Composed? Did they just grab a dictionary and choose a bunch of positive words? And calling me polite, the girl who talks with her mouth full, the girl who speaks her mind at the worst moments, the girl who has no intention of hiding when she's bored, annoyed or offended in order to respect the other person? Well, they'll soon realise that polite was far from the truth. I'm not exactly impolite towards them, but I hate phoneys, and I have being phoney, too. Somehow, though, my upfront comments only spawn more of these exaggerated compliments: 'What a sincere girl!' and 'We need a Pulsar of such boldness. — Giselle Simlett

Pulsar: a dying star spinning under its own exploding anarchic energy, like a lighthouse on speed. A star the size of a city, a city the size of a star, whirling round and round, its death-song caught by a radio receiver, light years later, like a recorded message nobody heard, back-played now into infinity across time. Love and loss. — Jeanette Winterson