50 Best Iron Lady Ad Images in 2020 - BigSpy

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"Love me or hate me, either way I'm already on your mind. I win. You lose." As the Alpha King of all werewolves and lycans, Aero needed to be fair to all. He ruled with an iron fist, a steady head and a balanced emotion. He was perfect in everyt.\n\nChapter 1 - Prologue \n< Serena >\n\nPaintings.\n\nI always love them. Whenever there was an art show near Manhattan, I make it a point to go check the artworks and possibly buy one. Or two. Or three of them.\n\nWhat I look for in a painting were the strokes the painter uses, the use of colors and how they blend in with the picture in general, and of course, the drawing.\n\nI had always loved fantasy-inspired paintings. Fantastical landscapes, mythical creatures, men and women wearing weird clothing, oh yes, I collected them all. They had always reached out to a part of my soul that I had been guarding since I lost my parents. They had always called out to a part of me that I wasn’t sure what.\n\nMaybe, my parents as painters could be the reason. They influenced my tastes after all. But deep inside me, I knew there was always something special about these types of paintings I couldn’t quite figure out.\n\nOne rainy day, I ran across an antique shop in downtown Manhattan about to be closed by the bank for bankruptcy. The different antique displays were spread all over the street in the hopes that some passers-by would still buy them.\n\nI caught sight of a beautiful painting of a landscape. Breathtaking it was and purely, for lack of a better word, out-of-this-world. The painting showed a mountain range with its slopes covered in autumn trees. In the center of this mountain range, just nestled on top the hill was a silver-plated castle. The details were extraordinary, magical even. I couldn’t resist its call, so in the end, I bought it. Plus, I didn’t want it to be wet with the rain. I wanted to give it a home.\n\nThe antique shop owner, an old lady probably in her late sixties, was gracious enough to give me a discount considering the painting had smudges on the edges
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Editura ACT si Politon
Nu-ți irosi toată energia pentru ideea ta de afaceri sau pentru talentul tău! Majoritatea oamenilor fac această greșeală. Stau zile în șir să lucreze la visul lor și când este gata, rămân fără energie pentru a investi în ceea ce garantează succesul: promovarea. E important să știi cum să construiești în jurul ideii tale o strategie referitoare la calitate, profesionalism și publicitate. Este un întreg proces al creației, explicat în cartea „Secretul vânzărilor perene" de către autorul Ryan Holiday. „În timpul procesului de creație, sunt mulți cei care ajung să se rătăcească din cauza scurtăturilor. Susținem că vrem să fim mai mult decât un foc de paie, dar nu stăm deloc să ne gândim cum să creștem longevitatea și durabilitatea creației noastre. Luăm ca punct de reper tot ce este pe val, tare, la modă și se vinde bine. Drept urmare, trebuie să producem mai mult, să ne facem și mai multă publicitate, să ne trădăm și mai mult principiile.” (Ryan Holiday) Dacă ai o idee de afaceri, un produs nou vrei să scrii o carte sau să lansezi un album muzical, Ryan Holiday îți arată cum să faci asta cu succes în cartea „Secretul vânzărilor perene". Acesta vorbește în carte despre: ➡ Procesul de creație ➡ Poziționarea ➡ Marketingul ➡ Platforma Autorul acoperă toți pașii de la idee la lansare și distribuire, astfel încât să faciliteze tuturor drumul către împlinirea produselor proprii. Acesta dezvăluie secretele celebrităților, cum ar fi: Lady Gaga, Iron Maiden, Ernest Hemingway, Stephen King, care au reușit să iasă din mulțime și să creeze istorie prin creațiile lor. Vei descoperi procesul de creație al lui Craig Newmark, cunoscut pentru Craigslist, al lui Rick Rubin, legendarul producător de muzică, al serialelor Mad Men sau Seinfeld, al filmului Avatar al lui James Cameron sau filmele Pixar, Toy Story (Povestea jucăriilor) și Monsters, Inc. (Compania monștrilor), al romanului „Adio, arme” al lui Ernest Hemingway etc. Află mai multe din carte aici: https://actsipoliton.ro/ryan-holiday-secretul-vanzarilor-perene-carte
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Editura ACT si Politon
AUDIOBOOK NOU! 30% REDUCERE ⏳ Doar până joi 6 august ⏳ Fiecare dintre noi este un artist în domeniul său. Fie că ești cântăreț, scriitor, profesor, manager, mecanic auto sau antreprenor, știi că succesul în cariera ta este bazat pe muncă, dar și pe strategie. Nimeni nu se trezește peste noapte un star. Aproximativ toate acele povești sunt fabricate, iar asta o demonstrează autorul Ryan Holiday în bestseller-ul internațional „Crede-mă, te mint!". Ryan Holiday unul dintre cei mai bine vânduți scriitori de marketing și consultant pentru Google, TASER și Complex, precum și muzicieni premiați cu Grammy (Lady Gaga, Iron Maiden, Kanye West), acoperă principiile fundamentale ale produselor care se vând an de an, inclusiv muzică și cărți, în cartea „Secretul vânzărilor perene”. Află mai multe: https://actsipoliton.ro/blog/cum-sa-creezi.html
Bravonovel - Fictions & Webnovels
"Love me or hate me, either way I'm already on your mind. I win. You lose." As the Alpha King of all werewolves and lycans, Aero needed to be fair to all. He ruled with an iron fist, a steady head and a balanced emotion. He was perfect in everyt. Chapter 1 - Prologue < Serena > Paintings. I always love them. Whenever there was an art show near Manhattan, I make it a point to go check the artworks and possibly buy one. Or two. Or three of them. What I look for in a painting were the strokes the painter uses, the use of colors and how they blend in with the picture in general, and of course, the drawing. I had always loved fantasy-inspired paintings. Fantastical landscapes, mythical creatures, men and women wearing weird clothing, oh yes, I collected them all. They had always reached out to a part of my soul that I had been guarding since I lost my parents. They had always called out to a part of me that I wasn’t sure what. Maybe, my parents as painters could be the reason. They influenced my tastes after all. But deep inside me, I knew there was always something special about these types of paintings I couldn’t quite figure out. One rainy day, I ran across an antique shop in downtown Manhattan about to be closed by the bank for bankruptcy. The different antique displays were spread all over the street in the hopes that some passers-by would still buy them. I caught sight of a beautiful painting of a landscape. Breathtaking it was and purely, for lack of a better word, out-of-this-world. The painting showed a mountain range with its slopes covered in autumn trees. In the center of this mountain range, just nestled on top the hill was a silver-plated castle. The details were extraordinary, magical even. I couldn’t resist its call, so in the end, I bought it. Plus, I didn’t want it to be wet with the rain. I wanted to give it a home. The antique shop owner, an old lady probably in her late sixties, was gracious enough to give me a discount considering the painting had smudges on the edges due to its aged state. I was kind enough to refuse it. If she was in bankruptcy, at least my full payment of the painting would help her in some way. “May the magic be with you always,” she said with a smile as we parted. I just shrugged my shoulders never really thinking much about her words. I didn’t know then, it had meaning. The first night the painting was with me, I dreamed about magical creatures: behemoths in the sky, beautiful mermaids swimming in the ocean, and fairies hiding in the woods. The dream was lovely. I didn’t want it to end. The second night, I dreamed about the castle on the hill. It was beckoning me, wanting me to go there. I woke up in the middle of the night panting. Not knowing exactly what got me so worked up. The third night, my dream brought me inside the castle. It was enormous with arched roofs and glass walls. In a blink of an eye, I was sent to a bed chamber. The sheets were covered with an embroidered insignia: a profile of what looked like an animal—a wolf—and around it were curves, lines and symbols I had never come across. It was beautifully colorful. But what really captured my attention was the one lying on it. It was a man and from what I could gather, the king of the castle as he had a crown on top his head screaming almighty powerful. I had to take in deep breaths just to calm myself down. One, two, three. One, two, three. But I knew I was fooling myself. I felt bothered by it and I stayed like that for the whole day until the fourth night came. The dream didn’t start with anything magical or downright erotic really. It was just me inside my bed, lying like a log, unmoving, yet inside my head, I heard an ethereal voice—a woman’s voice—calling out to me to stand up and touch the painting. And like a puppet, I did. The next thing I knew, I woke up inside that castle’s majestic chamber with the said king. Chapter 1 - Meet the King < Aero > On his deathbed, my father gave the crown to me, but he let me promise that I’d get a queen in the next three days. Of
Bravonovel - Fictions & Webnovels
"Love me or hate me, either way I'm already on your mind. I win. You lose." As the Alpha King of all werewolves and lycans, Aero needed to be fair to all. He ruled with an iron fist, a steady head and a balanced emotion. He was perfect in everyt. Chapter 1 - Prologue < Serena > Paintings. I always love them. Whenever there was an art show near Manhattan, I make it a point to go check the artworks and possibly buy one. Or two. Or three of them. What I look for in a painting were the strokes the painter uses, the use of colors and how they blend in with the picture in general, and of course, the drawing. I had always loved fantasy-inspired paintings. Fantastical landscapes, mythical creatures, men and women wearing weird clothing, oh yes, I collected them all. They had always reached out to a part of my soul that I had been guarding since I lost my parents. They had always called out to a part of me that I wasn’t sure what. Maybe, my parents as painters could be the reason. They influenced my tastes after all. But deep inside me, I knew there was always something special about these types of paintings I couldn’t quite figure out. One rainy day, I ran across an antique shop in downtown Manhattan about to be closed by the bank for bankruptcy. The different antique displays were spread all over the street in the hopes that some passers-by would still buy them. I caught sight of a beautiful painting of a landscape. Breathtaking it was and purely, for lack of a better word, out-of-this-world. The painting showed a mountain range with its slopes covered in autumn trees. In the center of this mountain range, just nestled on top the hill was a silver-plated castle. The details were extraordinary, magical even. I couldn’t resist its call, so in the end, I bought it. Plus, I didn’t want it to be wet with the rain. I wanted to give it a home. The antique shop owner, an old lady probably in her late sixties, was gracious enough to give me a discount considering the painting had smudges on the edges due to its aged state. I was kind enough to refuse it. If she was in bankruptcy, at least my full payment of the painting would help her in some way. “May the magic be with you always,” she said with a smile as we parted. I just shrugged my shoulders never really thinking much about her words. I didn’t know then, it had meaning. The first night the painting was with me, I dreamed about magical creatures: behemoths in the sky, beautiful mermaids swimming in the ocean, and fairies hiding in the woods. The dream was lovely. I didn’t want it to end. The second night, I dreamed about the castle on the hill. It was beckoning me, wanting me to go there. I woke up in the middle of the night panting. Not knowing exactly what got me so worked up. The third night, my dream brought me inside the castle. It was enormous with arched roofs and glass walls. In a blink of an eye, I was sent to a bed chamber. The sheets were covered with an embroidered insignia: a profile of what looked like an animal—a wolf—and around it were curves, lines and symbols I had never come across. It was beautifully colorful. But what really captured my attention was the one lying on it. It was a man and from what I could gather, the king of the castle as he had a crown on top his head screaming almighty powerful. I had to take in deep breaths just to calm myself down. One, two, three. One, two, three. But I knew I was fooling myself. I felt bothered by it and I stayed like that for the whole day until the fourth night came. The dream didn’t start with anything magical or downright erotic really. It was just me inside my bed, lying like a log, unmoving, yet inside my head, I heard an ethereal voice—a woman’s voice—calling out to me to stand up and touch the painting. And like a puppet, I did. The next thing I knew, I woke up inside that castle’s majestic chamber with the said king. Chapter 1 - Meet the King < Aero > On his deathbed, my father gave the crown to me, but he let me promise that I’d get a queen in the next three days. Of
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Bravonovel - Fictions & Webnovels
"Love me or hate me, either way I'm already on your mind. I win. You lose." As the Alpha King of all werewolves and lycans, Aero needed to be fair to all. He ruled with an iron fist, a steady head and a balanced emotion. He was perfect in everyt. Chapter 1 - Prologue < Serena > Paintings. I always love them. Whenever there was an art show near Manhattan, I make it a point to go check the artworks and possibly buy one. Or two. Or three of them. What I look for in a painting were the strokes the painter uses, the use of colors and how they blend in with the picture in general, and of course, the drawing. I had always loved fantasy-inspired paintings. Fantastical landscapes, mythical creatures, men and women wearing weird clothing, oh yes, I collected them all. They had always reached out to a part of my soul that I had been guarding since I lost my parents. They had always called out to a part of me that I wasn’t sure what. Maybe, my parents as painters could be the reason. They influenced my tastes after all. But deep inside me, I knew there was always something special about these types of paintings I couldn’t quite figure out. One rainy day, I ran across an antique shop in downtown Manhattan about to be closed by the bank for bankruptcy. The different antique displays were spread all over the street in the hopes that some passers-by would still buy them. I caught sight of a beautiful painting of a landscape. Breathtaking it was and purely, for lack of a better word, out-of-this-world. The painting showed a mountain range with its slopes covered in autumn trees. In the center of this mountain range, just nestled on top the hill was a silver-plated castle. The details were extraordinary, magical even. I couldn’t resist its call, so in the end, I bought it. Plus, I didn’t want it to be wet with the rain. I wanted to give it a home. The antique shop owner, an old lady probably in her late sixties, was gracious enough to give me a discount considering the painting had smudges on the edges due to its aged state. I was kind enough to refuse it. If she was in bankruptcy, at least my full payment of the painting would help her in some way. “May the magic be with you always,” she said with a smile as we parted. I just shrugged my shoulders never really thinking much about her words. I didn’t know then, it had meaning. The first night the painting was with me, I dreamed about magical creatures: behemoths in the sky, beautiful mermaids swimming in the ocean, and fairies hiding in the woods. The dream was lovely. I didn’t want it to end. The second night, I dreamed about the castle on the hill. It was beckoning me, wanting me to go there. I woke up in the middle of the night panting. Not knowing exactly what got me so worked up. The third night, my dream brought me inside the castle. It was enormous with arched roofs and glass walls. In a blink of an eye, I was sent to a bed chamber. The sheets were covered with an embroidered insignia: a profile of what looked like an animal—a wolf—and around it were curves, lines and symbols I had never come across. It was beautifully colorful. But what really captured my attention was the one lying on it. It was a man and from what I could gather, the king of the castle as he had a crown on top his head screaming almighty powerful. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing that made my eyes pop. I had to take in deep breaths just to calm myself down. One, two, three. One, two, three. But I knew I was fooling myself. I felt bothered by it and I stayed like that for the whole day until the fourth night came. The dream didn’t start with anything magical or downright erotic really. It was just me inside my bed, lying like a log, unmoving, yet inside my head, I heard an ethereal voice—a woman’s voice—calling out to me to stand up and touch the painting. And like a puppet, I did. The next thing I knew, I woke up inside that castle’s majestic bed chamber with the said king. Chapter 1 - Meet the King < Aero > On his deathbed, my father gave the crown to me, but he
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