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