In the mundane, nothing is sacred. In sacredness, nothing is mundane.

When you walk in the mist, you get wet.

But do not ask me where I am going, As I travel in this limitless world, Where every step I take is my home.

There is a simple way to become buddha: When you refrain from unwholesome actions, are not attached to birth and death, and are compassionate toward all sentient beings, respectful to seniors and kind to juniors, not excluding or desiring anything, with no designing thoughts or worries, you will be called a buddha. Do not seek anything else.

A zen master's life is one continuous mistake.

Look for Buddha outside your own mind,

and Buddha becomes the devil.

Your body is like a dew-drop on the morning grass, your life is as brief as a flash of lightning. Momentary and vain, it is lost in a moment.

All that's visible springs from causes intimate to you. While walking, sitting, lying down, the body itself is complete truth. If someone asks the inner meaning of this: Inside the treasury of dharma eye a single grain of dust.

I live by letting things happen.

You should stop searching for phrases and chasing after words. Take the backward step and turn the light inward. Your body-mind of itself will drop off and your original face will appear. If you want to attain just this, immediately practice just this.

Those who see worldly life as an obstacle to Dharma see no Dharma in everyday actions. They have not yet discovered that there are no everyday actions outside of Dharma.

A flower falls, even though we love it; and a weed grows, even though we do not love it.

I haven't got any Buddhism. I live by letting things happen.

In the stream,

Rushing past

To the dusty world,

My fleeting form

Casts no reflection.

Those who practice know whether realization is attained or not, just as those who drink water know whether it is hot or cold.

Because monks come from the midst of purity, they consider as good and pure what does not arouse desire among other people.

Mountains and rivers at this very moment are the actualization of the world of the ancient Buddhas. Each, abiding in its phenomenal expression, realizes completeness.

Emptiness is bound to bloom, like hundreds of grasses blossoming.

Through one word, or seven words, or three times five, even if you investigate thoroughly myriad forms, nothing can be depended upon. Night advances, the moon glows and falls into the ocean. The black dragon jewel you have been searching for, is everywhere.

We must always be disturbed by the truth.