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