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