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