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