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