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