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