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