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