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