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