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