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