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