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