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