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