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