Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
Watch your own steps!
Ordinary mind is the Way.
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
Fire is hot; water, cold.
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .
The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
He dies, I die - Where can we meet?
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
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.
No ugliness in a loved child.
Worldly passions inseparable from satori.
From the origins nothing exists.
No good thought, no evil thought.
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
Produce Mind Without attachment to anything.
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
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?
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
Once you preach, the point is gone.
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
It rains: the earth wet.
Spring comes: grass grows.
However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.
A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?