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