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