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