Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
Ordinary mind is the Way.
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.
From the origins nothing exists.
Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?
Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
He dies, I die - Where can we meet?
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
Fire is hot; water, cold.
The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
It rains: the earth wet.
No ugliness in a loved child.
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
No good thought, no evil thought.
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
Watch your own steps!
Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.
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.
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .
One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.
Once you preach, the point is gone.
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
Spring comes: grass grows.
A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.