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