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