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