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