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