Tag: finance

Here’s a great quote. While reading it, you will learn a lot about what triggers attraction.

“Oglethorpe’s farm stood a mile or so to the south of Bridgewater on the right bank of the river. It was a straggling Tudor building showing gray above the ivy that clothed its lower parts. Approaching it now, through the fragrant orchards amid which it seemed to drowse in Arcadian peace beside the waters of the Parrett, sparkling in the morning sunlight, Mr. Blood might have had a difficulty in believing it part of a world tormented by strife and bloodshed.

On the bridge, as they had been riding out of Bridgewater, they had met a vanguard of fugitives from the field of battle, weary, broken men, many of them wounded, all of them terror-stricken, staggering in speedless haste with the last remnants of their strength into the shelter which it was their vain illusion the town would afford them. Eyes glazed with lassitude and fear looked up piteously out of haggard faces at Mr. Blood and his companion as they rode forth; hoarse voices cried a warning that merciless pursuit was not far behind. Undeterred, however, young Pitt rode amain along the dusty road by which these poor fugitives from that swift rout on Sedgemoor came flocking in ever-increasing numbers. Presently he swung aside, and quitting the road took to a pathway that crossed the dewy meadowlands. Even here they met odd groups of these human derelicts, who were scattering in all directions, looking fearfully behind them as they came through the long grass, expecting at every moment to see the red coats of the dragoons.

But as Pitt’s direction was a southward one, bringing them ever nearer to Feversham’s headquarters, they were presently clear of that human flotsam and jetsam of the battle, and riding through the peaceful orchards heavy with the ripening fruit that was soon to make its annual yield of cider.

At last they alighted on the kidney stones of the courtyard, and Baynes, the master, of the homestead, grave of countenance and flustered of manner, gave them welcome.

In the spacious, stone-flagged hall, the doctor found Lord Gildoy – a very tall and dark young gentleman, prominent of chin and nose – stretched on a cane day-bed under one of the tall mullioned windows, in the care of Mrs. Baynes and her comely daughter. His cheeks were leaden-hued, his eyes closed, and from his blue lips came with each labored breath a faint, moaning noise.

Mr. Blood stood for a moment silently considering his patient. He deplored that a youth with such bright hopes in life as Lord Gildoy’s should have risked all, perhaps existence itself, to forward the ambition of a worthless adventurer. Because he had liked and honored this brave lad he paid his case the tribute of a sigh. Then he knelt to his task, ripped away doublet and underwear to lay bare his lordship’s mangled side, and called for water and linen and what else he needed for his work.

He was still intent upon it a half-hour later when the dragoons invaded the homestead. The clatter of hooves and hoarse shouts that heralded their approach disturbed him not at all. For one thing, he was not easily disturbed; for another, his task absorbed him. But his lordship, who had now recovered consciousness, showed considerable alarm, and the battle-stained Jeremy Pitt sped to cover in a clothes-press. Baynes was uneasy, and his wife and daughter trembled. Mr. Blood reassured them.

“Why, what’s to fear?” he said. “It’s a Christian country, this, and Christian men do not make war upon the wounded, nor upon those who harbor them.” He still had, you see, illusions about Christians. He held a glass of cordial, prepared under his directions, to his lordship’s lips. “Give your mind peace, my lord. The worst is done.””

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From when we were babies to hitherto social pressures have forced us into the role of being a man.

We were discouraged to act feminine. It’s part of being socialized.

This was dinned into us by our mother and father; by books we read and TV shows we watched; and by our teachers in school.

Perhaps an example would shed light on this.

Take a visit to a local toy store.

You’ll notice that most toys aren’t for boys and girls.

In the boys section you’ll find G.I. Joes, Transformers, and Thomas the Train.

In the girl’s section you’ll find Barbie dolls and Dora the Explorer.

These toys aren’t just “toys.” They’re teaching aids for training kids to become a man or a woman.

If a boy is caught brushing a Brat doll’s hair his friends will most likely make fun of him and call him a girl.

If his mother or father catch him doing this, they’ll immediately take the doll away from him and worry that he isn’t being socialized as a male.

This causes boys and men alike to stay clear of acting like a girl.

There’s nothing wrong with this except that some of the best seducers have developed their feminine side. These men are called “Dandies.”

They bounce back-and-forth between acting like a woman and a man.

In fact, their seductive power lies in that they cannot be categorized as masculine or feminine.

When a person cannot be categorized, they entrance others. We are attracted to those who entrance us.

The famous psychiatrist Dr. Freud famously said that people are bisexual. According to him, all of us are attracted to both males and females.

But but being stigmatized prevents most of us from acting on these urges.

Women are attracted to the Dandy because he is a woman inside a man’s body.

Dandies are notoriously insolent: they have very little need to please people – especially women. This is another facet of their allure.

Here’s a simple guide to turning yourself into a Dandy: learn to pay attention to the smallest details, develop a disdain for pleasing others, and nurture your feminine side.

I want to leave you with a quote from Pablo Picasso: “I am a woman. Every artist is a woman and should have a taste for other women. Artists who are homosexual cannot be true artists because they like men, and since they themselves are women they are reverting to normality.”

This will work whether you make your money from marketing, advertising, the finance world, selling autos, or something else.

Whether you’re into blogs, gardening, sports, spirituality, religion, traveling the world, being a family man, or health and fitness, this advice will help you.

Check out my favorite dating coach, Swinggcat, to get some of his dating tips

Here’s a great quote from The Messenger:

“Peter Blood, bachelor of medicine and several other things besides, smoked a pipe and tended the geraniums boxed on the sill of his window above Water Lane in the town of Bridgewater.

Sternly disapproving eyes considered him from a window opposite, but went disregarded. Mr. Blood’s attention was divided between his task and the stream of humanity in the narrow street below; a stream which poured for the second time that day towards Castle Field, where earlier in the afternoon Ferguson, the Duke’s chaplain, had preached a sermon containing more treason than divinity.

These straggling, excited groups were mainly composed of men with green boughs in their hats and the most ludicrous of weapons in their hands. Some, it is true, shouldered fowling pieces, and here and there a sword was brandished; but more of them were armed with clubs, and most of them trailed the mammoth pikes fashioned out of scythes, as formidable to the eye as they were clumsy to the hand. There were weavers, brewers, carpenters, smiths, masons, bricklayers, cobblers, and representatives of every other of the trades of peace among these improvised men of war. Bridgewater, like Taunton, had yielded so generously of its manhood to the service of the bastard Duke that for any to abstain whose age and strength admitted of his bearing arms was to brand himself a coward or a papist.

Yet Peter Blood, who was not only able to bear arms, but trained and skilled in their use, who was certainly no coward, and a papist only when it suited him, tended his geraniums and smoked his pipe on that warm July evening as indifferently as if nothing were afoot. One other thing he did. He flung after those war-fevered enthusiasts a line of Horace – a poet for whose work he had early conceived an inordinate affection:

“Quo, quo, scelesti, ruitis?”

And now perhaps you guess why the hot, intrepid blood inherited from the roving sires of his Somersetshire mother remained cool amidst all this frenzied fanatical heat of rebellion; why the turbulent spirit which had forced him once from the sedate academical bonds his father would have imposed upon him, should now remain quiet in the very midst of turbulence. You realize how he regarded these men who were rallying to the banners of liberty – the banners woven by the virgins of Taunton, the girls from the seminaries of Miss Blake and Mrs. Musgrove, who – as the ballad runs – had ripped open their silk petticoats to make colors for King Monmouth’s army. That Latin line, contemptuously flung after them as they clattered down the cobbled street, reveals his mind. To him they were fools rushing in wicked frenzy upon their ruin.”

This will work whether you make your money from marketing, advertising, the finance world, selling autos, or something else.

Whether you’re into blogs, gardening, sports, spirituality, religion, traveling the world, being a family man, or health and fitness, this advice will help you.

If you’d like to learn how to get girls to like you, check out this site.

I’ve got a question for you…

Have you ever been shot down by a woman? – be honest. I, for example, have been rejected more times than I’d like to admit.

For the collective average male, rejection plain sucks. There’s nothing fun about it.

But a select group of ladies’ men actually enjoy being rejected.

You might be thinking, “Sounds like these guys are masochists.” Far from it. They revel in rejection because of a few secrets they possess that most men don’t.

Most men think when a woman rejects them, they are doomed.

But ladies’ men know that what kills most men’s chances with a woman is their reaction to her rejecting them.

Plus ladies’ men have the skills and knowledge to mutate rejection into attraction at their whim.

I’m going to teach you step-by-step how to do this, so the next time a woman rejects you, you can mutate it into attraction.

But first I want to introduce you to some key attraction principles. These principles lay the foundation for what you’re about to learn.

1). Prizability: Women are attracted to men they perceive as the Prize. Prizability is the degree to which a woman sees you as the Prize.

2). The Meta-Frame: Every male-female interaction has a meta-frame or underlying meaning. When you establish and maintain the Meta-Frame that you are the Prize the woman is trying to win over, attracting her becomes as easy as tying your shoe. But when the meta-frame is her as the Prize you are trying to win over, triggering attraction in her is next to impossible.

Imagine talking to a woman and just as things are getting hot and heavy she hisses the all too familiar words: “I have a boyfriend.”

If you interpret these words as her rejecting you and walk away or apologize for hitting on her, she becomes the Prize in the interaction. Bad thing!

If you take her words as meaning her boyfriend is a barrier you have to get past and attempt to prove to her that you’d make a better boyfriend than her current one, once again, you’re setting the meta-frame that she’s the Prize you are trying to win over.

“So how in the world can you mutate the words ‘I have boyfriend’ into attraction?” you might be wondering.

Instead of interpreting the crippling words “I have a boyfriend” as meaning that she’s rejecting you, interpret them as her trying to impress you.

So the next time a woman says, “I have a boyfriend,” try: “Good. In the morning he can bring us breakfast in bed but if the orange juice isn’t fresh, I’m gonna club him.”

One of two things will happen…

She’ll completely get sucked into the Meta-frame that you are the Prize she is trying to win over.

Or…

She won’t fall into your Meta-frame but will know that you are unwilling to get sucked into hers.

This will work whether you make your money from marketing, advertising, the finance world, selling autos, or something else.

Whether you’re into blogs, gardening, sports, spirituality, religion, traveling the world, being a family man, or health and fitness, this advice will help you.

Check out this website if you’d like to get more seduction tips.

This quote from The Secret Garden illuminates how to speak and write romantically:

“When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too. She had a little thin face and a little thin body, thin light hair and a sour expression. Her hair was yellow, and her face was yellow because she had been born in India and had always been ill in one way or another. Her father had held a position under the English Government and had always been busy and ill himself, and her mother had been a great beauty who cared only to go to parties and amuse herself with gay people. She had not wanted a little girl at all, and when Mary was born she handed her over to the care of an Ayah, who was made to understand that if she wished to please the Mem Sahib she must keep the child out of sight as much as possible. So when she was a sickly, fretful, ugly little baby she was kept out of the way, and when she became a sickly, fretful, toddling thing she was kept out of the way also. She never remembered seeing familiarly anything but the dark faces of her Ayah and the other native servants, and as they always obeyed her and gave her her own way in everything, because the Mem Sahib would be angry if she was disturbed by her crying, by the time she was six years old she was as tyrannical and selfish a little pig as ever lived. The young English governess who came to teach her to read and write disliked her so much that she gave up her place in three months, and when other governesses came to try to fill it they always went away in a shorter time than the first one. So if Mary had not chosen to really want to know how to read books she would never have learned her letters at all.

One frightfully hot morning, when she was about nine years old, she awakened feeling very cross, and she became crosser still when she saw that the servant who stood by her bedside was not her Ayah.

“Why did you come?” she said to the strange woman. “I will not let you stay. Send my Ayah to me.”

The woman looked frightened, but she only stammered that the Ayah could not come and when Mary threw herself into a passion and beat and kicked her, she looked only more frightened and repeated that it was not possible for the Ayah to come to Missie Sahib.

There was something mysterious in the air that morning. Nothing was done in its regular order and several of the native servants seemed missing, while those whom Mary saw slunk or hurried about with ashy and scared faces. But no one would tell her anything and her Ayah did not come. She was actually left alone as the morning went on, and at last she wandered out into the garden and began to play by herself under a tree near the veranda. She pretended that she was making a flower-bed, and she stuck big scarlet hibiscus blossoms into little heaps of earth, all the time growing more and more angry and muttering to herself the things she would say and the names she would call Saidie when she returned.

“Pig! Pig! Daughter of Pigs!” she said, because to call a native a pig is the worst insult of all.

She was grinding her teeth and saying this over and over again when she heard her mother come out on the veranda with some one. She was with a fair young man and they stood talking together in low strange voices. Mary knew the fair young man who looked like a boy. She had heard that he was a very young officer who had just come from England. The child stared at him, but she stared most at her mother. She always did this when she had a chance to see her, because the Mem Sahib–Mary used to call her that oftener than anything else–was such a tall, slim, pretty person and wore such lovely clothes. Her hair was like curly silk and she had a delicate little nose which seemed to be disdaining things, and she had large laughing eyes. All her clothes were thin and floating, and Mary said they were “full of lace.” They looked fuller of lace than ever this morning, but her eyes were not laughing at all. They were large and scared and lifted imploringly to the fair boy officer’s face.

This will work whether you make your money from marketing, advertising, the finance world, selling autos, or something else.

Whether you’re into blogs, gardening, sports, spirituality, religion, traveling the world, being a family man, or health and fitness, this advice will help you.

If you’d like to learn how to get girls to like you, check out this site.

Here’s a very seductive quote:

“On a January evening of the early seventies, Christine Nilsson was singing in Faust at the Academy of Music in New York.

Though there was already talk of the erection, in remote metropolitan distances “above the Forties,” of a new Opera House which should compete in costliness and splendor with those of the great European capitals, the world of fashion was still content to reassemble every winter in the shabby red and gold boxes of the sociable old Academy. Conservatives cherished it for being small and inconvenient, and thus keeping out the “new people” whom New York was beginning to dread and yet be drawn to; and the sentimental clung to it for its historic associations, and the musical for its excellent acoustics, always so problematic a quality in halls built for the hearing of music.

It was Madame Nilsson’s first appearance that winter, and what the daily press had already learned to describe as “an exceptionally brilliant audience” had gathered to hear her, transported through the slippery, snowy streets in private broughams, in the spacious family landau, or in the humbler but more convenient “Brown coupe” To come to the Opera in a Brown coupe was almost as honorable a way of arriving as in one’s own carriage; and departure by the same means had the immense advantage of enabling one (with a playful allusion to democratic principles) to scramble into the first Brown conveyance in the line, instead of waiting till the cold-and-gin congested nose of one’s own coachman gleamed under the portico of the Academy. It was one of the great livery-stableman’s most masterly intuitions to have discovered that Americans want to get away from amusement even more quickly than they want to get to it.

When Newland Archer opened the door at the back of the club box the curtain had just gone up on the garden scene. There was no reason why the young man should not have come earlier, for he had dined at seven, alone with his mother and sister, and had lingered afterward over a cigar in the Gothic library with glazed black-walnut bookcases and finial-topped chairs which was the only room in the house where Mrs. Archer allowed smoking. But, in the first place, New York was a metropolis, and perfectly aware that in metropolises it was “not the thing” to arrive early at the opera; and what was or was not “the thing” played a part as important in Newland Archer’s New York as the inscrutable totem terrors that had ruled the destinies of his forefathers thousands of years ago.

The second reason for his delay was a personal one. He had dawdled over his cigar because he was at heart a dilettante, and thinking over a pleasure to come often gave him a subtler satisfaction than its realization. This was especially the case when the pleasure was a delicate one, as his pleasures mostly were; and on this occasion the moment he looked forward to was so rare and exquisite in quality that–well, if he had timed his arrival in accord with the prima donna’s stage-manager he could not have entered the Academy at a more significant moment than just as she was singing: “He loves me–he loves me not–HE LOVES ME!–” and sprinkling the falling daisy petals with notes as clear as dew.

She sang, of course, “M’ama!” and not “he loves me,” since an unalterable and unquestioned law of the musical world required that the German text of French operas sung by Swedish artists should be translated into Italian for the clearer understanding of English- speaking audiences. This seemed as natural to Newland Archer as all the other conventions on which his life was molded: such as the duty of using two silver- backed brushes with his monogram in blue enamel to part his hair, and of never appearing in society without a flower (preferably a gardenia) in his buttonhole.”

This will work whether you make your money from marketing, advertising, the finance world, selling autos, or something else.

Whether you’re into blogs, gardening, sports, spirituality, religion, traveling the world, being a family man, or health and fitness, this advice will help you.

If you’d like to learn how to get girls to like you, check out this site.

A lot of stuff in this quote reveals how to tell if a girl likes you:

“Newland Archer, during this brief episode, had been thrown into a strange state of embarrassment.

It was annoying that the box which was thus attracting the undivided attention of masculine New York should be that in which his betrothed was seated between her mother and aunt; and for a moment he could not identify the lady in the Empire dress, nor imagine why her presence created such excitement among the initiated. Then light dawned on him, and with it came a momentary rush of indignation. No, indeed; no one would have thought the Mingotts would have tried it on!

But they had; they undoubtedly had; for the low- toned comments behind him left no doubt in Archer’s mind that the young woman was May Welland’s cousin, the cousin always referred to in the family as “poor Ellen Olenska.” Archer knew that she had suddenly arrived from Europe a day or two previously; he had even heard from Miss Welland (not disapprovingly) that she had been to see poor Ellen, who was staying with old Mrs. Mingott.

Archer entirely approved of family solidarity, and one of the qualities he most admired in the Mingotts was their resolute championship of the few black sheep that their blameless stock had produced. There was nothing mean or ungenerous in the young man’s heart, and he was glad that his future wife should not be restrained by false prudery from being kind (in private) to her unhappy cousin; but to receive Countess Olenska in the family circle was a different thing from producing her in public, at the Opera of all places, and in the very box with the young girl whose engagement to him, Newland Archer, was to be announced within a few weeks.

No, he felt as old Sillerton Jackson felt; he did not think the Mingotts would have tried it on!”

Study what I wrote.

This will work whether you make your money from marketing, advertising, the finance world, selling autos, or something else.

Whether you’re into blogs, gardening, sports, spirituality, religion, traveling the world, being a family woman, or health and fitness, this advice will help you.

If you’d like to learn how to get girls to like you, check out this site.