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 . . .
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
No good thought, no evil thought.
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
Spring comes: grass grows.
Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
No ugliness in a loved child.
A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
He dies, I die - Where can we meet?
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
Ordinary mind is the Way.
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
From the origins nothing exists.
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
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.
Produce Mind Without attachment to anything.
Watch your own steps!
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.
Once you preach, the point is gone.
The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
Fire is hot; water, cold.
Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
It rains: the earth wet.
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
Worldly passions inseparable from satori.
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.