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