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