The bluebird carries the sky on his back.
The Bluebird of Happiness long absent from his life, Ned is visited by the Chicken of Depression.
A man's interest in a single bluebird is worth more than a complete but dry list of the fauna and flora of a town.
Measure your health by your sympathy with morning and spring. If there is no response in you to the awakening of nature -if the prospect of an early morning walk does not banish sleep, if the warble of the first bluebird does not thrill you -know that the morning and spring of your life are past. Thus may you feel your pulse.
Birds fly over the rainbow. Why then, oh, why can't I?
There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out.
Early in life, I was visited by the bluebird of anxiety
Measure your health by your sympathy with morning and Spring.
There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you.
If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh why can't I?
It’s nice enough to make a man weep, but I don’t weep, do you?
Whither away, Bluebird, Whither away? The blast is chill, yet in the upper sky Thou still canst find the color of thy wing, The hue of May. Warbler, why speed, thy southern flight? ah, why, Thou, too, whose song first told us of the Spring? Whither away?
Blue skies Smiling at me Nothing but blue skies Do I see
Birds fly Over The Rainbow. Why then, oh why can't I? If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh why can't I?
The birds can fly, An' why can't I?
Blue skies Smiling at me Nothing but blue skies Do I see Bluebirds Singing a song Nothing but bluebirds All day long
A man who never sees a bluebird only half lives.
there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say, I know that you're there, so don't be sad. then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?
When nature made the blue-bird she wished to propitiate both the sky and the earth, so she gave him the color of the one on his back and the hue of the other on his breast.
There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there.
or simply:
