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