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