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