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