It rains: the earth wet.
Everything is true just as it is: Why dislike it? Why hate?
Watch all sentient beings with merciful eyes.
Angry waves: not so dangerous as man's mind.
Produce Mind Without attachment to anything.
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.
Spring opens a hundred flowers — for whom?
Rich food doesn't tempt the man who has eaten.
Merciful words come out of the merciful mouth.
A hungry dog bites a dry bone.
Sitting motionless, nothing happening — Spring coming, grass growing.
A smiling face offers mercy; A troubled mind contains vicious poison.
Day after day a very good day: Winds come and trees bow.
When cold say cold; When hot say hot.
Meeting Sakyamuni, kill him! Meeting Bodhidharma, kill him, too!
No ugliness in a loved child.
Open your mouth— instantly wrong; Move your tongue— against the truth.
One snowflake falling on a burning furnace.
Killing or vivifying is in these hands.
Seeking words, chasing phrases: When do you have time for satori?
The man who's drunk water Knows if it's cool or warm.
Teaching beyond teaching; No leaning on words and letters.
Where no Buddha, the Buddha works.
With the slightest yes and no, Mind is lost in confusion.
Need fire? Best strike a flint. Water? Dig a well.
However priceless, a piece of gold In the eye is nothing but grit.
Not flattered by praise, not hurt by blame.
Seek satori within yourself! Where else?
Cast away Dharma, Not to mention non-Dharma.
Walking is Zen; sitting, too.
Fire is hot; water, cold.
Heaven, earth, and I: the same root. Everything and I: one thing.
He dies, I die - Where can we meet?
Pictured rice cakes dissolve hunger?
From outside the shoes, to scratch where you itch.
One blind man leads many blind men Into the fire hole hand in hand.
No good thought, no evil thought.
Watch your own steps!
To call heaven earth makes it earth? To name earth heaven makes it heaven?
Go a thousand miles not moving a foot!
Ordinary mind is the Way.
Worldly passions inseparable from satori.
Spring comes: grass grows.
The Billion Worlds, a bubble on the sea; All Buddhas and Patriarchs, a flash of lightning.
Reach for it, and you'll miss; let it loose, and it'll follow.
From the origins nothing exists.
Ten thousand laws end in One : Don't stick to that, either!
Never comparable to anything: How can I preach it?
What is the color of the wind? Where does the rain come from?
Coming back with satori but everything just as before: Hermit Mountain's drizzle and mist, Crooked River's waves . . .
Every Thursday 06 pm.
Every Saturday 05 pm.