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