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