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