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