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