They can be harbored, but few hold water, You can nurse them, but only by holding them against someone else, You can carry them, but not with your arms, You can bury them, but not in the earth.

Full of dark, filled with everything. Both on my skin they color. With my pack, I am always. Afraid of the cat. What am I?

What goes up, but at the same time goes down? Up toward the sky, and down toward the ground. Its present tense and past tense too, come for a ride, just you and me!

We travel much, yet prisoners are, and close confined to boot. Yet with any horse, we will keep the pace, and will always go on foot. What are they?

I bubble and laugh and spit water in your face. I am no lady, and I don't wear lace.

When the creeper passes, all the grass kneels.

What goes in the water black and comes out red?

Iron roof, glass walls, burns and burns and never falls.

You can only have it once you have given it.

What can you fold but not crease?

I bind it and it walks. I loose it and it stops.

I have a tongue but cannot taste. I have a soul but cannot feel. What am I?

We are five little objects of an everyday sort, You will find us all in a tennis court.

To unravel me, you need a key. No key that was made by locksmith's hand, but a key that only I will understand. What am I?

I can always go up, never down, I can always turn left, never right, I am always hot when I'm cold.

I don't exist unless you cut me, but if you stab me I won't bleed. I hate no one yet am abhorred by all. What am I?

I do not listen to reason, but I hear every siren's song and will try to steer us towards the rocks if you let me take the wheel. Who am I?

I am something all men have but all men deny. Man created me but no man can hold me. What am I?

I cannot be other than what I am, Until the man who made me dies, Power and glory will fall to me finally, Only when he last closes his eyes.

I saw a man in white, he looked quite a sight. He was not old, but he stood in the cold. And when he felt the sun, he started to run. Who could he be?