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