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