There's a bridge in Venice, Italy called the Bridge of Sighs. It links a prison and an interrogation room in the old Doge's palace, and apparently got it's name from Lord Byron, who imagined prisoners sighing at their last sight of the beauty of Venice before they were imprisoned forever. As fanciful as this description may be, Byron got at least one thing right: in the depths of despair, and when all hope seems lost, beauty is one of the only things that can sustain the spirit and help you through the dark night. And the very best kind of beauty is that of the female variety. Men can live on the hope of finding their dream woman for many years, and can endure all measure of heartache and hard work to achieve her. Even when his youth fades and his dreams of young love flitter away, he can still console himself with the sight of beautiful women who reawaken in him thoughts of the possibilities life holds. You never really grow old, not in spirit at least, as long as you can still respond to the sight of a beautiful young woman and feel alive. You are never truly lost as long as you can look at someone like Helga and sigh. Maybe your prison is one of your own making, or maybe you see the world you've grown up into as a sort of cell, but as long as you have beauty, beckoning to you with gentle giggles and soulful sighs, you can still dream of a better life and find a way to achieve it.