Dust is outside, heart is inside, heart is clean and dust-free, and water is clear. Dust is inside, the heart is outside, the heart has its own dust, and the moon is still shocked; Existence or not, all in one thought, whether to stay or not, not in Chihiro-inscription.

Because it begins with love and ends with love. Because I don't know at first, but I don't know at the end. If the heart is like a bodhi tree, all rivers are water, and love is like a mirror, everything is empty.

Life is alive, when it comes to its origin, it is like being among thousands of flowers and trees, singing and dancing among thousands of clear waters, leaving beautiful images and falling poems on the moon, which is very gratifying; Fate is gone, plum blossoms have pictures, clouds have no words, and the world of mortals has thousands of tears, just for easy.

He looked back again and crossed the border. I have turned to Wan Li and looked at it with a smile.

Writing sentences in the south of the Yangtze River and singing poems in the north, if there are no mountains in the future, flowers are floating clouds, and how many joys and sorrows are intertwined with mountains and rivers is the unbearable length of youth and the unbearable weight of life. When do we empty everything? When can we live in shallow water?

Who disguised our past in the name of a passer-by, and this passer-by will be the master who will replace our reincarnation?

If I can turn into a bodhi thinking tree, I would like not to be reincarnated and never look back. I only hope that it will not fade after winter, and it will be as fragrant as tea, not astringent or bitter, and as sweet as honey; The fragrance around the tongue is also light and thick, fresh and tasteless.

All seasons are soft voices, and Nana can spread wisdom all year round.

Buddha said that it took 500 times to look back at the past life before getting the pass of this life. Should we cherish things that generations have not known, or should we always leave traces to follow and smile at each other?

Who is the only one, you don't have to wait, this is eternal and will last forever; Who knows the past, who perceives the future, fishing, throwing and staying for the elderly is a pleasure, and your seclusion is also a pleasure and a kind of distance.

True and false, the Tao is deep and prajnaparamita, and the soul is quiet; Virtual and real, flowers bloom brightly, practice well, sit still like ancient temple flowers, and watch the shadow of green hills and hibiscus.

Come like wind and rain, go like dust, half-life fate is bitter, half-life fate is wind and rain, and the jade piano plays in the middle of the night, but the stream is alone, and the gurgling water will not cause dust and trouble; White clouds are idle, fragrant souls sleep in the water, above the clouds, and the sky and the ring solve their fate.

I have seen the cold rain at dusk, the shallow heart in autumn, the cold words in frost poetry and ink, and the short love in this life; The snow in the city is full of Zen, and the plum blossoms are dust-free everywhere, sighing that there are many worries elsewhere; Here, Qianshan, speechless and dreaming, is everywhere, and poetry flows into the scriptures. Look down on names,

Qing Yin's secular fate, gains and losses, success and failure, status, disparity between the rich and the poor, love and hate, life and death, advance and retreat, honor and humiliation of ........... can all be explained in the source of life, and everything can be said to be based on nature.

Zen has no boundaries. If you cultivate your mind like a bodhi tree and understand the joy, anger, sorrow, joy, bitterness, sorrow and sorrow of life, you will have an epiphany, and you will achieve a supreme bodhicitta, making your soul pure and solemn, and the mountains and rivers quiet for years.

No matter how time goes by and how the shadow changes, everything between heaven and earth is flat and green, and all people are safe.

Perfect karma and get the afterlife fruit, just to listen to the sound of flowers in your heart.

Plant a thousand reasons and collect a book, just to interpret the Zen rhyme of a hundred years.