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