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