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