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