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