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