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