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