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