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