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