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