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