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