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