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