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