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