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