If you cannot find the truth within yourself, where else do you expect to find it?

When you paint Spring, do not paint willows, plums, peaches, or apricots, but just paint Spring. To paint willows, plums, peaches, or apricots is to paint willows, plums, peaches, or apricots – it is not yet painting Spring.

Refraining from all evil, not clinging to birth and death, working in deep compassion for all sentient beings, respecting those over you and pitying those below you, without any detesting or desiring, worrying or lamentation – this is what is called Buddha. Do not search beyond it.

Realization doesn’t destroy the individual any more than the reflection of the moon breaks a drop of water. A drop of water can reflect the whole sky.

Forgetting oneself is opening oneself.

Yet you must not cling to the words of the old sages either; they, too, may not be right. Even if you believe them, you should be alert so that, in the event that something superior comes along, you may follow that.

Though it has no thought of keeping watch, it’s not for naught that the scarecrow stands in the grain field.

When you paint Spring, do not paint willows, plums, peaches, or apricots – just paint Spring.

Because mountains are high and broad, the way of riding the clouds is always reached in the mountains; the inconceivable power of soaring in the wind comes freely from the mountains.

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.