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