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