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