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