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