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