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