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