The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.
Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
Worldly passions inseparable from satori.
No good thought, no evil thought.
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
Ordinary mind is the Way.
He dies, I die - Where can we meet?
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.
Fire is hot; water, cold.
Spring comes: grass grows.
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.
Once you preach, the point is gone.
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
From the origins nothing exists.
Watch your own steps!
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
No ugliness in a loved child.
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
It rains: the earth wet.
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
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.
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.