Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.

When cold say cold; When hot say hot.

Worldly passions inseparable from satori.

No ugliness in a loved child.

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.

Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!

Once you preach, the point is gone.

One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.

Seek satori within yourself! Where else?

Fire is hot; water, cold.

From the origins nothing exists.

A hungry dog bites a dry bone.

Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.

Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.

The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.

Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.

Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.

Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.

To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?

However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.

Ordinary mind is the Way.

Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?

Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?

Walking is Zen; sitting, too.

Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.

It rains: the earth wet.

Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!

Produce Mind Without attachment to anything.

Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.

Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?

Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.

Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.

Killing or vivifying is in these hands.

A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.

Spring comes: grass grows.

Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.

Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?

The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.

One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.

From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.

Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.

Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.

What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?

With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.

No good thought, no evil thought.

Watch your own steps!

Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .

He dies, I die - Where can we meet?

Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.

Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!