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