You can't live in Venice...you'd die from an overdose of "cute". I can think of no other place on earth where a bridge named for the quiet, intimate act of a sigh could be more appropriate. The whole place is so close and personal but...and there are so many people explaining things to others, it seems that if one stands still, one is sure to overhear the lovely, famous, decadent story of what happened on just the very spot you occupy. I was looking at this bridge across a small canal...Venice seems to be full of them. I'm thinking it's so wonderfully intricate and well designed, proportionally perfect. "Prisoners destined for death stopped to sigh as they crossed over here on their way to the gallows," whispers a voice to my left, "How cute," moans the voice on my right. I think death with cuteness is possible only in Venice.