Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
Watch your own steps!
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
No good thought, no evil thought.
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.
Ordinary mind is the Way.
A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
He dies, I die - Where can we meet?
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.
Fire is hot; water, cold.
Once you preach, the point is gone.
Spring comes: grass grows.
Worldly passions inseparable from satori.
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
No ugliness in a loved child.
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.
The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.
One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?
Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .
It rains: the earth wet.