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