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