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