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