Worldly passions inseparable from satori.
The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
Produce Mind Without attachment to anything.
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
Ordinary mind is the Way.
Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.
No ugliness in a loved child.
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
It rains: the earth wet.
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
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.
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.
Fire is hot; water, cold.
Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.
A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
Watch your own steps!
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
No good thought, no evil thought.
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
Once you preach, the point is gone.
From the origins nothing exists.
The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.
Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.
Spring comes: grass grows.
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?