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