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