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