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