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