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