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.
From the origins nothing exists.
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
Once you preach, the point is gone.
The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.
Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
It rains: the earth wet.
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.
No good thought, no evil thought.
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.
Spring comes: grass grows.
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
No ugliness in a loved child.
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
He dies, I die - Where can we meet?
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
Watch your own steps!
Produce Mind Without attachment to anything.
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
Fire is hot; water, cold.
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
Worldly passions inseparable from satori.
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .
Ordinary mind is the Way.