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