A master who lived as a hermit on a mountain was asked by a monk, “What is the Way?”

  “What a fine mountain this is,“ the master said in reply.

  “I am not asking you about the mountain, but about the Way.”

  ”So long as you cannot go beyond the mountain, my son, you cannot reach the Way,” replied the master.

   The master Ikkyu showed his wisdom even as a child. Once he broke the precious heirloom teacup of his teacher, and was greatly upset. While he was wondering what to do, he heard his teacher coming. Quickly he hid the pieces of the cup under his robe.

   "Master," he said, "why do things die?"

   "It is perfectly natural for things to die and for the matter gathered in them to separate and disintegrate," said the teacher. "When its time has come every person and every thing must go."

   "Master," said little Ikkyu, showing the pieces, "it was time for your cup to go." 

A master was asked the question, "What is the way?" by a curious monk.

   "It is right before your eyes," said the master.

   "Why do I not see it for myself?"

   "Because you are thinking of yourself."

   "What about you: do you see it?"

   "So long as you see double, saying I don't and you do, and so on, your eyes are clouded," said the master.

   "When there is neither 'I' nor 'You,' can one see it?"

   "When there is neither 'I' or 'You,' who is the one that wants to see it?"

A new monk came up to the master Joshu. "I have just entered the brotherhood and I am anxious to learn the first principle of Zen," he said. "Will you please teach it to me?"

   Joshu said, "Have you eaten your supper?" 

  The novice answered, "I have eaten."

   Joshu said, "Now wash your bowl."

Joshu asked the teacher Nansen, "What is the true Way?"

   Nansen answered, "Everyday way is the true Way."

   Joshu asked, "Can I study it?"

   Nansen answered, "The more you study, the further from the Way."

   Joshu asked, "If I don't study it, how can I know it?"

   Nansen answered, "The Way does not belong to things seen: nor to things unseen. It does not belong to things known: nor to things unknown. Do not seek it, study it, or name it. To find yourself on it, open yourself as wide as the sky."

There were two Zen temples in the town of Kyoto, and each had a bright young student who was sent on errands. The North temple sent its boy every day to buy vegtables. On his way he was met by the boy of the South temple.

    "Where are you going?" asked the South temple boy.

    "Whereever my feet will carry me," replied the other.

    This answer silenced the South temple boy, and he went back and told the story to his teacher. Not to be outdone by the rival pupil, the teacher suggested: "When you meet the boy tomoorw, ask him the same question. He will give you the same answer, and then you say: "Suppose you had no feet - then where would you be going?" That will fix him!"

    The next day the two boys met. The boy from the South temple said: "Where are you going?"

    "Wherever the wind will blow me," replied the other.

A rich merchant asked the master Sengai for a good saying that would help preserve the prosperity and happiness of his family. The master took brush and ink, and wrote:

          Grandfather dies

         Father dies

         Son dies

    The merchant was angry. "What kind of evil spell are you writing against my family?" he demanded of Sengai.

    "It is no evil spell," said Sengai, "but a hope for your greatest good fortune. I wish that every man of your family shall live to be a grandfather. And I wish that no son may die before his father. What truer happiness than life and death in this order can any family desire?"