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What did the baby corn say to its mother?
Born of earth, but with none of its strength. Molded by flame, but with none of its power. Shaped
I drift forever with the current and flows to your everyday life. I make living easy but I am good at killing people too.
What never asks questions but receives a lot of answers?
I stand in one place yet fill the whole room. I can be filled with molten rock and come in every hue. What am I?
Something wholly unreal, yet seems real to I. Think my friend, tell me where does it lie?
In all the world, none can compare, I am a tiny weaver; my deadly cloth so silky and fair. What am I?
Before I grow I'm small. When I'm old I grow tall. When I die I give a mighty fall.
The sun bakes me, the hand breaks me, the foot treads on me, and the mouth tastes me. What am I?
My flavors ranges from strawberry to toe.
Said to have fifty shades
Thousands of these come together to make a digital image. What is it?
Who spends the day at the window, goes to the table for meals and hides at night?
I am the first you ever saw, what greets you every morning and what goes out in the end.
A dragon's tooth in a mortal's hand, I kill, I maim, I divide the land.