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

Fire is hot; water, cold.

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

Produce Mind Without attachment to anything.

A hungry dog bites a dry bone.

It rains: the earth wet.

Spring comes: grass grows.

Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?

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

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

Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.

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

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

Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.

Watch your own steps!

From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.

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

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

Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?

One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.

Killing or vivifying is in these hands.

Walking is Zen; sitting, too.

Seek satori within yourself! Where else?

No good thought, no evil thought.

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

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

Ordinary mind is the Way.

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

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

Much understand, much problem. Little understand, little problem. Complete DON'T KNOW, no problem.

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

Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.

Once you preach, the point is gone.

Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.

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

Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?

When cold say cold; When hot say hot.

No ugliness in a loved child.

Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.

From the origins nothing exists.

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

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

Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.

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

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

He dies, I die - Where can we meet?

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

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

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.

Worldly passions inseparable from satori.