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The bluebird was very afraid of dying, but every time it opened its eyes, it would throw itself out of its nest, to overcome its fear.

You've really lived when someone tries to throw you into a hole every time you breathe, not when someone is constantly protecting you, because real life cannot be lived inside a cage.

In real life there are no bars, there are stranger fingers. They always try to grasp your arms, to keep you from your path.

They asked the bluebird, do you want to live a safe life in a cage without flying, or do you want to lose your way in the wild and die by flying?

"To fly." said the bluebird. "I want to fly, even to death."

Do you understand now what it means to truly live? What's the point of living sheltered in golden cages all your life if you won't enjoy flying?