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