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