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