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