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