Sales Contest Quotes

Business is not a popularity contest, it's a sales campaign. Popularity is only good if it converts to sales. Influence is only good if it converts to profit.

the sales compensation plan is Batman, the sales contest is Robin.

During my 4th grade year the National Park Service announced an essay contest about the importance of parks. I was inspired by some now forgotten prize to begin writing with this contest. It seemed progress was being made as I declared that "Parks are like old photos" only to be asked to clarify – "How exactly are parks like old photos?" This question created a case of Writer's Block that extended through the essay contest deadline. Lewis Carroll was content with leaving us with "Why is a raven like a writing desk?" but I kept working on my answer. How are parks like old photos? You'll know when they are gone.

Pretty much everyone we went to college with has a Hazel Bradford story. Of course, my old roommate Mike has many—mostly of the wild sexual variety—but others have ones more similar to mine: Hazel Bradford doing a mud run half marathon and coming to her night lab before showering because she didn’t want to be late. Hazel Bradford getting more than a thousand signatures of support to enter a local hot dog eating contest/fund-raiser before remembering, onstage and while televised, that she was trying to be a vegetarian. Hazel Bradford holding a yard sale of her ex-boyfriend’s clothes while he was still asleep at the party where she found him naked with someone else (incidentally, another guy from his terrible garage band). And—my personal favorite—Hazel Bradford giving an oral presentation on the anatomy and function of the penis in Human Anatomy.

Suddenly there was someone banging on the sliding glass door behind me; at this stage it was a contest of wills and I refused to even turn around and look. Then he was back banging on the front door. I finally excused myself from the conversation and went to the door to get rid of this guy. He was a passing motorist trying to tell me that the shrubs along my backyard wall were in flames! Suddenly this guy was elevated in status from annoying pest to welcome guest! Clearly, he was on my side: “Get the hose going — I'll call the fire department!” Together we kept the burning shrubbery from setting my whole house on fire. How did he go from pest to welcome guest so quickly? Because he had something to tell me that I instantly recognized as of urgent importance and of great value and benefit to me. In case you had illusions to the contrary, no one is sitting around hoping and praying that he will receive your sales letter. When it arrives, it is most likely an unwelcome pest. How do you earn your welcome as a guest? By immediately saying something that is recognized by the recipient as important and valuable and beneficial.

A sales quotation should have so many layers to peel, that the customer starts believing in the exclusivity of the offer and their bargaining tactics, they will keep coming back once confident of their superiority & strength, because no one refuses a contest assuring an easy win.

Marketing is a contest, a sale is its prize.

Threadless is a T-shirt company founded by people with expertise in information technology services, web design, and consulting. Their business model involves holding weekly design contests open to outside participants, printing only T-shirts with the most popular designs, and selling them to their large and growing customer base. Threadless doesn’t need to hire artistic talent, since skilled designers compete for prizes and prestige. It doesn’t need to do marketing, since eager designers contact their friends to solicit votes and sales. It doesn’t need to forecast sales, since voting customers have already announced what numbers they will buy. By outsourcing production, Threadless can also minimize its handling and inventory costs. Thanks to this almost frictionless model, Threadless can scale rapidly and easily, with minimal structural restrictions.

I protest that in criticizing property, or rather the whole mass of institutions of which property is the pivot, I have never intended either to attack individual rights, based upon existing laws, or to contest the legitimacy of acquired possessions, or to demand an arbitrary division of goods, or to place any obstacle to the free and regular acquisition, by sale and exchange, of property, or even to forbid or suppress, by sovereign degree, ground rent and interest on capital. I think that all these manifestations of human activity should remain free and voluntary for all: I ask for them no modifications, restrictions or suppressions, other than those which result naturally and of necessity from the universalisation of the principle of reciprocity which I propose.

The Math Works; Work the Math I don’t win many popularity contests with this proclamation. We have all heard it before. Sales is a numbers game. I dislike hearing that as much as the next guy. It isn’t complimentary; it doesn’t make us feel smart or important. I get that. But it doesn’t make the statement any less true: The math works.

Product that I Like." By Aron Micko H.B Arena, the most intense place; Belittle doers doing old space. Aroma smell now is embrace; Believable inspiration does race. Behavior no show cyberspace; Aurora lights direction to trace. Bottle available I thought vase; Athena the woman no replace. Area of insects fly every place; Breakable walls, now staircase. Aurora of an old do showcase; Bumble yellow shirt suitcase. Beatle seeing nope workplace; Armilla thing shines misplace. Bicycle rides the commonplace; Antenna sales I avail outpace.

There is a noticeable parallel between the ways that commercial fishermen and department stores generate a competitive fury among those they wish to hook. To attract and arouse the catch, fishermen scatter some loose bait called chum. For similar purposes, department stores holding a bargain sale toss out a few especially good deals on prominently advertised items called loss leaders. If the bait—of either form—has done its job, a large and eager crowd forms to snap it up. Soon, in the rush to score, the group becomes agitated, nearly blinded, by the adversarial nature of the situation. Human beings and fish alike lose perspective on what they want and begin striking at whatever is being contested.

I am never going to win a literary prize. There is no point trying anymore. I stopped trying long ago. I am too undisciplined a writer to be trusted with trophies. It would have been great to win one really; and to see my face slapped on tabloids all over the world; and to have my books measured out for sale in the shops by feet and yards instead of sold in measly single copies. But I guess I write in ways that should infuriate literary judges, critics and a good percentage of the literary community . In fairness to those guys; it must be very hard to give marks for a piece of writing that reads like no other contestant . Better to play safe instead and stamp it worthless in foot-high letters; and afterward debate a decree that future contestants be forced to undergo compulsory sanity tests.

When we break off a piping hot piece of our chocolate chip cookie and hand it to a friend, we do it not to win a contest, gain a promotion, or get a sale. We do it because we love this specific chocolate chip cookie experience, and we want to share it with someone else who we feel would love it as much as we do. Our intention is not to sell it but to share it.

The constant seeking of likes and attention on social media seems for many girls to feel like being a contestant in a never-ending beauty pageant in which they’re forever performing to please the judges—judges who have become more and more exacting. For it’s no longer enough for girls and women to be just pretty—even beautiful is not enough; now the goal is to be “perfect,” “flawless.