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