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