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