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