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