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