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