Watch your own steps!

Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!

Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?

The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.

Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!

A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.

Spring comes: grass grows.

One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.

One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.

Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.

Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.

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.

With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.

A hungry dog bites a dry bone.

No ugliness in a loved child.

Ordinary mind is the Way.

Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.

Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.

When cold say cold; When hot say hot.

What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?

Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.

To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?

Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.

Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.

Once you preach, the point is gone.

Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.

Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.

Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?

Produce Mind Without attachment to anything.

Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .

Walking is Zen; sitting, too.

Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.

Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?

Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?

Killing or vivifying is in these hands.

Worldly passions inseparable from satori.

From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.

It rains: the earth wet.

From the origins nothing exists.

He dies, I die - Where can we meet?

Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!

Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.

No good thought, no evil thought.

Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?

Fire is hot; water, cold.

Seek satori within yourself! Where else?

However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.

Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.

The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.