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