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