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