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