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