Answer:
Whoever makes it, tells it not. Whoever takes it, knows it not. And whoever knows it wants it not
If you drop me I'm sure to crack. But give me a smile and I'll always smile back.
What is that over the head and under the hat?
By the way, what never moves, wears shoes, sandals and boots, but has no feet?
My voice is tender, my waist is slender and I'm often invited to play. Yet wherever I go, I must take my bow or else I have nothing to say.
What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?