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