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