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