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