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