However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
All things that exist are like a dream, a phantom, a bubble, a reflection; they are like dew or lightning; thus should you view them.
One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.
Ordinary mind is the Way.
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
From the origins nothing exists.
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.
Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.
No ugliness in a loved child.
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
No good thought, no evil thought.
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.
Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
Produce Mind Without attachment to anything.
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
It rains: the earth wet.
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
Once you preach, the point is gone.
Worldly passions inseparable from satori.
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
He dies, I die - Where can we meet?
Watch your own steps!
The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
Spring comes: grass grows.
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
Fire is hot; water, cold.