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