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