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