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