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