Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
Fire is hot; water, cold.
Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
Spring comes: grass grows.
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
Once you preach, the point is gone.
Watch your own steps!
Worldly passions inseparable from satori.
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
Ordinary mind is the Way.
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.
However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
It rains: the earth wet.
No good thought, no evil thought.
The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.
No ugliness in a loved child.
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.
He dies, I die - Where can we meet?
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
From the origins nothing exists.
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.
Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
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.