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