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