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