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