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