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