However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.
Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
It rains: the earth wet.
No good thought, no evil thought.
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.
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.
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
Ordinary mind is the Way.
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
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.
No ugliness in a loved child.
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
Watch your own steps!
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?
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.
Fire is hot; water, cold.
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .
Once you preach, the point is gone.
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.
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.
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
From the origins nothing exists.
Spring comes: grass grows.
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
Worldly passions inseparable from satori.