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