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