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