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