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