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