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