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