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