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