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