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