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