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