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