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