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