Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
Watch your own steps!
No ugliness in a loved child.
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
Spring comes: grass grows.
Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
He dies, I die - Where can we meet?
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
Fire is hot; water, cold.
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
From the origins nothing exists.
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
Ordinary mind is the Way.
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
No good thought, no evil thought.
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.
Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.
The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
Once you preach, the point is gone.
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
It rains: the earth wet.
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
Worldly passions inseparable from satori.
Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
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.