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