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