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